
THE >S PIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX 



, THE COMING. WOMAN 




H'^' 



iV 



THE 



SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX; 



OR, 



THE COMING WOMAN, 



A PROPHETIC DRAMA, 



FOLLOWED BY 



A CHANGE OF BASE, 



DOCTOR MONDSCHEIN. 




/c BOSTON: 
LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY. 
1868. 



T 






\ 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by 

LITTLE, BROWN, Ax\D COMPANY, 

in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts, 



Univer'-itv Pkhss: Welch, Bigelow, & Co., 
Cambridge. 



THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX; 

OR, 

THE COMING WOMAN, 
A PROPHETIC DRAMA. 



NOTE. 

This play was not written for the stage, nor 
with any view to publication, but simply for 
amateur performance ; and therefore all scenery, 
stage-properties, &c., were purposely dispensed 
with, and the action limited by the resources 
of a drawing-room. 

The other little pieces were written two years 
ago, with the same object, and under the same 
restrictions. 

Chestnut Hill, March, i868. 



CHARACTERS. 



Tom Carberry. 
Mr. Wigfall. 
Wolverine Griffin. 
Mrs. Badger. 

ViCTORINE. 

The Judge. 

— • — 
The supposed period of this play is the year 1876. 



THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 



ACT I. 
SCENE I. 

A Waiting-room in a Railway Station; hung with Time 
Tables for 1876 of Pacific Railroad, direct route to 
Alaska, IValnissia, and Nootka Sound, ^'c. c^c. 
— Enter Cai'beri'y. 

Carberry. 
Provoking ! to wait here an hour when I 'm in 
a hurry to get back to Boston ! I arrived from 
China yesterday, after ten years' absence, — took 
the first train, — and just as I am almost in sight 
of the State House, the engine breaks down here 
at Newton Corner ! — However, I must make the 
best of it Luckily I have this morning's 

paper. {Lij^hts a cigar, and takes out a newspaper.) ''^ BostOH 

Daily Advertiser, September 25, 1876." It is 
incredible that I have lived ten years without the 
"Daily"! I have heard nothing about Boston 
since I left it, so I suppose I shall find some 
changes. I wonder who the Bank Presidents are 
now. [Reads.) " Merchants' Insurance Company, — 
President, Julia Backbay." yiilia ? Misprint, 
I suppose. " Firewoinefis Insurance Company." 



lO THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 

Pshaw ! what a careless compositor ! . . . . [Reads,) 
" Wanted, as Porter in a store, a good, stout .... 
Widow-woman." .... What a very extraordinary 
thing ! . . . . [Reads.) " The Freemasons secret di- 
vulged by a lady!' .... Some fool told his wife, 

I suppose [Reads.) " The Boston Independent 

Cadets paraded yesterday ojt the Common. A nezv 
feature was the introduction of the Parasol- Bayonet 
to shield the complexions of otcr fair and gallant 
Militia from the snn. The parasol is of blue silk, 
attached to the point of the Bayonet, and the effect 
on the march is exceedingly neat and imposing T 
.... I never heard anything equal to that ! 
Soldiers with sunshades ! One would think they 
were a parcel of girls ! It 's time for another war. 

Enter Mrs. Badger in Bloomer costume. She nods ; Carberry 

bows politely. 

Mrs. Badger. 
How are you, sir .•* Cigar, please. 

Carberry. 
Madam, I 'm sorry you object to smoking, but 
I took this for the gentlemen's waiting-room. 

Mrs. Badger. 
Object 1 What do you mean } I want a light. 

Carberry. 
Oh, I beg your pardon. I was not aware. 
[Aside.) Queer-looking female ! 

\Gives her a light and returns to his paper. Mrs. Badger 
also takes out a newspaper. 



THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 1 I 

Mrs. Badger. 
Bad accident to the "Amazon," sir. 

Carberry. 
What's that? 

Mrs. Badger. 

Portland Steamer, — Captain a particular friend 
of mine, — Jane Smith, — lost her reckoning, and 
ran aground on Cape Cod. Jane always was a 
hen-headed thing ! 

Carberry. 
I don't think I quite understand you. 

Mrs. Badger {reading). 

But the "Transcript" says, ''No blame at- 
tached to the lady-like Captain, who was suffering 
under a severe attack of neni'algia. At the time of 
the accident onr informant was talking to the 
woman at the wheels .... Ah ! that was the 

trouble. 

Carberry [aside). 

I don't know what she means. {A fanse.) 

» 
Mrs. Badger. 

Bad business that of the Boston City Govern- 
ment. It has all come out, you know, — Shame- 
ful misappropriation of the public money ! 

Carberry. 
What did they do 1 



12 THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 

Mrs. Badger. 

Voted themselves each a Cashmere shawl, worth 
a thousand dollars. Tax-payers must see to it at 
the next election. 

Carbeery. 

What on earth should the City Government do 
with Cashmere shawls .'* 

Mrs. Badger. 
Do } wear them, of course. {J^eads her newspaper.) 

Carberry [aside). 

They must look very ridiculous ! Middle-aged 

men in fancy shawls ! Dear me ! I hope it is n't 

the fashion here for everybody. I should feel like 

a fool. 

Mrs. Badger. 

We manage these things better at the Centre. 
No bribery and corruption there. 

Carberry. 
What centre } Washington 1 

Mrs. Badger. 
Newton Centre, Stupid. 

Carberry. 
Oh, I beg your pardon. [A pause.) 

Mrs. Badger. 
Going to Boston, sir } 



THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 1 3 

Carberry. 

Yes, madam. I am returning after an absence 
of several years. 

Mrs. Badger. 
Going to live in Boston, sir ? 

Carberry {aside). 

Inquisitive ! {Aloud) No, madam, I am only 
going to see some old friends. After that, I shall 
live in the country. 

Mrs. Badger. 
Where > 

Carberry. 

At Chestnut Hill, if you must know. 

Mrs. Badger. 

Chestnut Hill ! — that 's in my district. — I 'm 
your assessor. 

Carberry. 
I beg your pardon t 

Mrs. Badger. 
What 's your name .'' 

Carberry. 
Thomas Carberry, if you desire it. 

Mrs. Badger {taking out a note-booh). 

What 's your income t 



14 THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 

Carberry. 
Madam ! 

Mrs. Badger. 

Professional, or derived from property ? 

Carberry. 
Excuse me, madam, if I question your right to 
ask me. 

Mrs. Badger. 

Right ! of course I Ve a right. What 's your 
income ? 

Carberry. 

I decHne to answer. 

Mrs. Badger. 
O, you must, you know, — the law compels you. 

Carberry [aside). 
This woman is certainly deranged. 

Mrs. Badger. 

You '11 be fined or imprisoned if you refuse to 
answer my questions. 

Carberry (aside). 

She 's mad, — I see it in her eye, — unpleasant 
to be shut up with her here. 

A Voice [ivithoiit). 
Cars coming for Worcester ! {Bell rings) 

Mrs. Badger. 
"That 's my train. I 'm off to the Convention. 



THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTV-SIX. 1 5 

Good bye. I '11 see you again about it, Carberry, 
— there 's my card. ■ [Exit. 

Carberry {reading the card). 

" Mrs. Barbara Badger, — Newton. Assessor of 
Internal Revenue for the ^th District!' — Singular 

delusion for a woman She certainly must 

have been crazy, and yet .... I can't explain 
these extraordinary things in the newspapers. 
.... Here they all are in black and white, and 

I can't understand a word of them Good 

Heavens ! what if I were a little out of my head 

myself? .... an effect of the voyage I 

have heard of such things 

( Walks tip and doivn in great agitation, — feels his own pnlse, — 
goes to the other end of Waiting-room.) 

Enter Vici'ORiNE Wigfall in a shooting-dress, with gnn, game- 
bag, &r=c. 

ViCTORINE. 

O ! how tired I am ! Tramping all the morn- 
ing through bogs and briers, carrying this horrid 
gun, — and I 'm afraid of it too ! 

Carberry {coming forward ) . 

Pray let me relieve you of it, madam. [Taking it.) 

ViCTORINE. 

Oh, thanks. I 've been dragging it about since 
sunrise, because some of my friends persuaded me 
it was good fun. But I think it 's a downright 
humbug, and I '11 never do it again. 



/ 



1 6 THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 

Carberry. 

Is it not something new for ladies to indulge in 
field sports ? 

ViCTORINE. 

New ? Oh no ; all the girls do. 

Carberry {putting do'W7t the gini and seeing her name on it). 

" Victorine Wigfall !'' Why, it must be Joe 
Wigfall's daughter ! Allow me to introduce my- 
self .... an old friend of your father's .... 
Mr. Carberry. 

Victorine. 

Oh yes, indeed, — papa will be delighted. He 
often talks of vou. You have been in some out- 
of-the-way place, have n't you t 

Carberry. 
In China. 

Victorine. 
Are there many curious spiders in China } 

Carberry. 
Spiders } 

Victorine. 

Yes. I 'm passionately fond of spiders . . . 
are you } I Ve got a beauty here. I found him 

this morning for my collection. [Opens a box and pro- 
duces a large black spider.) Is n't he lovely } 

Carberry (recoiling). 

Ugh I 



THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 1 7 

ViCTORINE. 

He 's an Epcira Diadema. Do you want to 
take him ? . . . . No ? . . . . Why, are you afraid 
of spiders ? 

Carberry. 

I thought ladies were. I 'm quite surprised to 
find a young lady interested in insects. 

ViCTORINE {wearily). 

One must be interested in something, you 
know, — and, to tell you the honest truth, horse- 
racing and dog-fighting bore me, and I 'm not 
much of a club-girl, and no sportswoman, — so 
I Ve gone into spiders. 

Carberry {aside). 

There 's something very odd about all this 
{Aloud.) When I was here last, young ladies in- 
terested themselves chiefly in society. Is there 
no gaiety in Boston now ? 

ViCTORINE. 

Parties, you mean 1 I really can't tell you : 
I 've hardly been to a party since my Sophomore 
year. I don't like them. It is so unpleasant 
asking gentlemen to dance .... they make sucli 
a favour of it, and the nicest ones are engaged ten 

deep And then they always want so much 

supper ! Really, after I 've done helping my "^ 
partner, I 'm so tired, that when I get home I 've 

B 



1 8 THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 

hardly strength to turn the latch-key. So I don't 

often go And yet I 'm fond of dancing 

too Are you ? 

Carberry. 

I have no doubt I should be, with such a charm- 
ing partner, — but I 'm afraid I have n't much 
experience. 

ViCTORINE. 

Oh, does n't your father let you dance round 
dances .'' 

Carberry {puzzled). 
My father ? 

ViCTORINE. 

Why, that 's what so many young men say. 
But / think it is only an excuse, because they are 
too lazy. 

Carberry. 

Society seems to have changed very much, for, 
when I left Boston, the gentlemen always asked 
the ladies. 

ViCTORINE. 

Oh, can you remember as far back as that ? I 
think it must have been pleasanter then for the 
girls, — but mamma and Aunt Wolverine say I 
don't appreciate the blessings of emancipation. 
I dojit. I should hate to vote .... and I 'd 
a great deal rather keep quiet, and be asked to 
dance, or to ... . anything. 



THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTV-SIX. I9 

Carberry. 

Miss Wigfall, such sentiments do you honor. 
A lady is never so charming as when adorned 
with modesty, of which I see the emblem in your 
violet eyes. 

ViCTORINE. 

How pretty ! Is that the way gentlemen used 
to talk ? Do go on. 

Carrerry [aside). 

It 's not so easy for a shy man to go on. 

ViCTORINE. 

I don't know anything about the old ways, for 
mamma says lovers were frivolous, and won't tell 
me, .... and I don't believe Aunt Wolverine 
ever had any, . . . ., so I can't get much out of 
her. 

Carberry. 

The novels of the period would perhaps give 
you some idea. 

ViCTORINE. 

But all the old novels were burnt, you know, by 
order of the Ladies of the Legislature, because 
they represented Woman in her degraded state. 
They say there used to be a few at Loring's 
Library once, but he only keeps philosophical 
and scientific works now, and Mr. Putnam's Cook- 
ery Book. 



20 THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTV-SIX. 

Career RY. 
Do you mean to say you never read a novel ? 

ViCTORI.XE. 

Only "The Imperial Votress" and "The Maid 
of Saragossa." 

Carberry. 

No novels ! .... no parties ! No poetry, per- 
haps, — that would be a good thing. ]\Iiss Wig- 
fall, did you never hear of Tennyson ? 

ViCTORIXE. 

O yes, indeed ! I have a beautiful song of his, — 
" Come into the garden^ George!' I '11 sing it to you 
some day. But now do tell me about old times, — 
for the train may be here any moment, and per- 
haps I shall never have another chance. I want 
to know whether gentlemen really cared anything 
for ladies then ? 

Carberry. 

Certainlv, I knew a o'reat manv fellows who 
were over head and ears in love with pretty girls. 

ViCTORIXE. 

In love ! There ! I knew there z^\is such a 
thing ! And what did they do and say 1 

C ARB ER R Y [aside ) . 

What an embarrassing girl ! [Aloud.) I dare 
say you know from experience, ^liss Wigfall. 



THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 21 

ViCTORINE. 

I! — no, indeed^ — I never made an ofter to 

anybody. 

Carberry. 

Vo?i / Of course not. What did you think I 
meant ? 

ViCTORINE. 

Were you ever in love yourself.'* 

Carberry. 
Never, never, I assure you. 

ViCTORINE. 

Oh, I wish you had been, for then you could have 

told me all about it But " those fellows " 

you spoke of, who were " over head and ears," — 
what did they say .'' I only want to know what it 
sounded like*. .... Can't you sigJi ? — just once ! . . . . 

Carberry [very much embarrassed). 

Really, Miss Wigfall 

ViCTORINE. 

Were they so very awkward .'' Come now, — 
what did they say t 

Carberry. 
Well, then .... they said .... they said .... 

A Voice {without). 
Train starting for Boston — All aboard ! 

[ViCTORINE and Carberry snatch up gicns, bags, shawls, and 
rush out. 



v/ 



22 THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 



ACT II. 

Drawing-room in Mr. WigfaU's house in Boston. Mr. 
Wigfall sitting with a large work-basket^ trying to darn 
his own stockings. 

Enter Carberry. 
Carberry. 

WiGFALL, old fellow, I am delighted to see you 
again. 

Mr. Wigfall [not recogidzitig). 

Whom have I the honour, sir, to see } . . . . 



Carberry [aside, looking at the stockings). 

What on earth is he about there } . . . . can he 
have gone mad like the rest .'* [Aland.) So you 
don't know Tom Carberry after ten years "^ 

Mr. Wigfall. 
Tom ! my dear fellow, — where .'' when } how } 

Carberry. 

From Shanghae, — a sudden idea, — arrived 
yesterday, — took the first train, and here I am. 
I met your lovely girl, what 's her name ? Glyce- 
rine — Bandoline — Kerosene — Victoiine I at the 
Railway station, — did n't she tell you } 



THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 23 

Mr. Wigfall. 
I have n't seen her. She dined at the Club, I 

beheve. 

Carberry. 

Indeed ! And how is your wife, — charming 
as ever ? — the only woman I was never afraid of. 

Mr. Wigfall. 
Ah, my dear fellow, — don't speak of her. 

Carberry. 
Why, you have n't had the misfortune to lose 
poor Susan ? . . . . 

Mr. Wigfall. 
No ; no such good — no such bad luck. She 's 
well in health, but .... 

Carberry. 
It is n't her mind, I hope ? 

Mr. Wigfall. 
Yes, Tom, it 's her mind, though not in the way 

you mean. 

Carberry. 

You have n't separated, surely ? 

Mr. Wigfall. 
Oh, not at all, — though I don't see much of her 

now. {Cries of a baby heard.) ExCUSe me, Tom, I mUSt 

run, — there 's that strong-minded baby ! 

Carberry. 
You ? Why, where 's the nurse } 



24 THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 

Mr. Wigfall. 
The nurse has gone to a primary meeting ! 

Carberry. 
What on earth can he mean ? 

Re-enter Mr, WiCxFALL, carrying the baby, and singing ^^ Bye, 
Baby Bunting.'''' 

Mr. Wigfall. 
Hush . . . . sh She 's going ofif . . . . 

I'll be with you presently {Pnts the baby in a 

cradle at the back of the room.) I keep lier Cradle down 

here, lately, because it is election time, you knov/, 
and the women can't attend to her. 

Carberry. 
Wigfall, one of us two is either drunk or crazy, 
— and I 'm afraid it 's I. What do you mea7i by 
nursery-maids and elections t 

Mr. Wigfall. ^ 

Did n't you know the ladies had gone to the 
front in America } 

Carberry. 
I '11 be hanged if I understand you. 

Mr. Wigfall. 
Did n't you read our papers out there in Shang- 

hae 1 

Carberry. 

Never ; nothing they said was true when they 
got there. 



THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 2$ 

Mr. Wig fall. 
My dear fellow, you 're behind the age. You 
went away in '66, before this infernal business of 
women's voting came up. That was the beginning 
of it all. At first they voted for their favourite 
generals and ministers, — they got that idea from 
the Fairs they used to have in the war-time, — 
but they soon gave t/ie7/i up, and began to elect 
each other. And now we are overrun by them. ^ 

They 're lawyers, ministers, tax-gatherers, — every- 
thing that 's disagreeable ! 

Carberry. 
How appalling ! — I can't comprehend it, for 
when I went away, the trouble was, that the 
women were entirely given up to extravagant 
dressing. 

Mr. Wig fall. 

I, know, — but times are changed. Then we ^ 

lived under a Millinery Despotism. I wish we 

had it back ! 

Carberry. 



We used to compl^i^ a good deal about it, I 

remember. ^^ 

Mr. Wigfall. 

Tom, the present state of things is a judgment 
on us, — we did not know when we were well off. ^ 

Now the Ballot-box has crushed the Band-box 

flat. 

Carberry. 

You don't mean to say women no longer care 
how they look .'' 



26 THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 

Mr. Wigfall. 
Well, — not quite that, — even my wife tries 
to get herself up like the Lord Chancellor, — but 
it's nothing to what it used to be. It's cheaper 
now, — but still, I regret old times, when women 
were women. 

Miss Griffin [speaking to the servant beh'md the scenes). 
Now, Bridget, be sure you vote the way I tell 
you to, and persuade all your friends, and I '11 give 
you a pair of real imitation gold ear-rings. 

Mr. Wigfall. 

Hang it, here 's my sister-in-law ! She 's the 
worst one I know. 

Enter Miss Griffin. 

Miss Griffin. 
Joseph, I 've come to stay till Saturday, as I 
speak on Thursday in Faneuil Hall. 

Mr. Wigfall [introducing). 

Let me introduce Mr.^fcarberry, of Shanghae, 
— Miss Wolverine GriffiiUbelCT^twoman of New- 
ton, Mass. \ 

Miss Griffin. ' 

Happy to see you, sir. I 've just got back from 
Worcester, Joseph. Great rally. All the distin- 
guished women of the State were there. 

Carberry. 

Was it a baby-show }. 



^ 



THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SI^ 2/ 

Miss Griffin {indignantly). 
A baby-show ! Sir, it was the Female Areopa- 
gus of the Modern Athens. Heard the news, Jo- 
seph ? Glorious nomination ! 

Mr. Wigeall. 
No, — not I. Gentlernen don't understand pol- 
itics. / 

Miss Griffin. 

But you should try to, Joseph, if they interest 
your wife and your sister. Overwhelming majority 
for Hon. Charleyanna P. Fillebrown for Governess 
of the State. But nine against her, and they were 
only men. You '11 support her, won't you, Joseph .-* 

Mr. Wigfall. 
It 's as much as I can do to support myself. I 
sha' n't make any promises. 

Miss Griffin. 
You want some man, I suppose ! As if we 
had n't had enough of them ! 

Mr. Wigfall. 
By no means, my Sir Wolverine. I am only 
disappointed that they did n't nominate j/^?/. 

Miss Griffin. 
Well, you need n't flatter yourself that it 's of 
the slightest consequence how you vote, — for Sis- 
ter Susan, and I, and Bridget, and the cook, and 
the parlour-maid, will make five to one against you 
in this house alone. But I can't waste my valu- 



^ 




28 THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTV-SIX. 

able time arguing with you, Joseph, — one- might 
as well talk to the winds. Men have such frivolous 
minds, — they don't care for anything but dress 
and company. — I don't mean you, Mr. Carberry ; 
I dare say you are an exception. 

Carberry. 

Everything seems to be exceptional, madam, so 
I suppose I am, too. 

Miss Griffin. 

Pray, sir, what are Mrs. Carberry's political con- 
victions ? 

Carberry, 

Madam, I have the misfortune to be unmarried. 

Mr. Wigfall. 
Stick to it, Tom, — stick to it ! 

[Rehir7ts to his baby. 

Miss Griffin. 

Unmarried ! That will never do. No doubt 
you feel the isolation of your lot, — unfitted as you 
are by nature to struggle \^n the rude world alone. 

Carberry. 

So far, I have got along pretty well, thank you, 

ma'am.. 

Miss Griffin. 

But now you feel the need of female guidance 
and support. I understand you perfectly. Leave 
it to me. 



THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 2g 

Carberry. 

Madam, you are very kind, but I should n't 
think of troubling you with my affairs. 

Miss Griffin. 
It is not the least trouble, I assure you. Am I 
not bound to help the weaker sex .? I could find 
you a wife immediately. I know exactly what you 

want. 

Carberry. 

That 's more than I do myself. 

Miss Griffin. 
You want a guide, philosopher, and friend ; so v"' 
of course you would n't marry a baby. Then, as 
to mere wax-doll beauty, of course you don't care 
for that. You want a woman of majestic presence 
[Drazving herself up), — mind, — experience, — heart, — 
and, above all, sojind political principles, which are 
the only sure foundation on which to erect the 
fabric of connubial bliss. 

Carberry. 
That 's a new sort o-f foundation, is n't it } — like 
pile-driving, — are you quite sure it won't "slump".-* 

Miss Griffin. 
Oh, my dear sir, believe me, the first tiling in / 

choosing a wife is to ascertain her political princi- ' 

pies. Be sure they are sound, and then go ahead. 
By the way, perhaps you would like to hear my 
little speech before the Areopagus, pubhshed this 



30 THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 

morning in that admirable paper " The Revolver." 

{Producing it.) Not Very long, you see thir- 

j teen columns and a half. 

[Carberry a7td Wigfall look at each other and groan. 

{Reads.) '' The Hon. Wolverine Griffin then rose, 
and said : ' F'ellow-Sisters. Woman now stands 
on the apex of the social Pyramid. Man is a 
mummy. The successful agitation of the Great 
Idea of Woman's Rights has worked results far 
transcending the fondest hopes of its originators. 
They demanded for Woman simple Equality with 
man, but Equality conceded, became the point up- 
on which, resting the lever of her intellect, Woman 
has moved the world. She has succeeded where 
old Archimedes broke down. A hundred years 
ago it was thought a fine thing for a few Amer- 
ican men to throw off the British Tyrant's yoke, 
— but that was a trifling achievement, compared 
to the new Revolution, in which twenty millions 
of ladies have thrown off all restraint, and now 
plant their victorious feet on the neck of the 
Male Oppressor! [Immmse cheering.) Ycs, fellow- 
sisters, the tocsin has- sounded, the Great Ameri- 
can Principle of Female Supremacy is spreading 
like wildfire, and the bloated old potentates of 
Europe shake on their rotten old thrones. 
{Applause.) W^oman's pre-eminence is conspicuous 
in every department of literature and art. Poet- 
esses, painteresses, sculptresses, triumphantly bear 
away the palm, — and all admit that as an oratress 



THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 3 1 

she has never been surpassed. {Cheers.) A dis- 
tinguished lady-antiquary has recently discovered 
that the immortal Shakespeare was a woman, — 
and this fact, while it settles the numerous con- 
troversies as to who and what he, or rather sJie, 
was, is confirmed beyond the possibility of doubt 
by the ample internal evidence contained in his, 
or rather Jier, immortal pages. 

Mr. Wigfall. 

Thanks, — don't tire yourself by reading any more. 
Miss Griffin. 

How you interrupt, Joseph ! Men never listen, 
— they always want to talk themselves ! {Resuming.) 

"* Ancient Woman had immense opportunities, 
but unhappily she did not know it. Bowed to 
the earth as a sex, the few individuals who stood 
up were very conspicuous. Semiramis and Cleo- 
patra both stood up in their day, and might have 
accomplished much, if they had kept clear of 
entangling alliances with men. Boadicea stood 
up, in her chariot (which by the way undoubtedly 
originated the idea of the modern mowing-ma- 
chine, refuting those cavillers who assert that 
woman has invented nothing). Joan of Arc stood 
up in her day, in armour, cap-a-pie, and it worked 
well, till they made it too hot for her. Glancing 
rapidly at Queen Elizabeth, Mrs. John Milton, 
Christina of Sweden, Madame Roland, Joanna 
Southcote, and Mrs. Fry, who all stood up in their 
several departments, — I come down to modern 



32 THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 

times, and close the list of Ante-Revolutionary 
Heroines with the illustrious name of Mrs. 
Bloomer, — the last of her sex who stood up 
entirely alone. She sowed the dragon's teeth 
which produced armed women from Cape Cod 
to Alaska. To-day all stand up, and notoriety 
is getting to be next to impossible.' " 

That is only the commencement. But I must 
leave you now, as I am one of the committee 
appointed to take our Nominee by the hand, — 
otherwise I 'd read you the whole Good bye. 

\Exit. 
Carberry a7id Mr. Wigfall {together). 

Thank Heaven ! 

Miss Griffin {retttming). 

I forgot to say, — I am on the Finance Com- 
mittee, — great need of funds for the campaign. 
We want to circulate portraits of Charleyanna P. 
Fillebrown all over the State No use ask- 
ing j^^?/, Joseph } 

Mr. Wigfall. 
Not the slightest, — but here is Mr. Carberry 
rolling in riches .... they call him the " China- 
Astor ! " 

Carberry {aside to Wigfall). 
Confound you, Joe ! {Aloud). Madam, I never 
refuse a lady. 

Miss Griffin {aside). 
Rolling in riches, and never refuses a lady, — 



THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 33 

I '11 make a note of that. [Aloud, graciously.) Shall 
I say $ 500 ? . . . . thank you. Perhaps you 
would like to give a little something towards the 
purchase of a steam fire-engine to be presented to 
Queen Emma of the Sandwich Islands by her 
admirers in this city, — names of the subscribers 
to be elegantly engraved on the machine .'' 

Carberry. 

Excuse me, ma'am, — but I hope Her Majesty 
won't be put out, if I prefer objects less remote. 

Miss Griffin. 

Ah, then perhaps you would rather subscribe 
to the new Statue, about to be erected in the Pub- 
lic Garden, after an original and comprehensive 
design by the gifted Miss Sculpin, — sometimes 
called the Phidias of the West. The group con- 
sists of a Colossal Bronze Egg, burnished like 
gold, which, cracking open, reveals Woman, — 
lovely Woman, — clad in complete armour, spread- 
ing her new-fledged wings. The inscription is 
simply "INCUBATED AT BOSTON." Im- 
agine the effect at sunset ! Could anything be 
finer! — Not to mention the beautiful bas-reliefs 
of myself and other great lady reformers, in 
bronze pantalettes, around the base. 

Carberry. 

Bronze ^ I should think brass might be more ^ 
appropriate. 



^ 



34 THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 

Miss Griffin. 

Ah ! my dear sir, thi is what we want. Shall I 
say $ 300 } 

Carberry. 

But, madam, I assure you I am wholly indiffer- 
ent to ... . 

Miss Griffin. 

.... to money, in such a cause, — I knew that 
would be your characteristic reply. So I will say 

$ 300 Thank you. Good evening ! . . . . 

good evening, Joseph. {Exit. 

Mr. Wigfall {solemnly). 

Are you aware, Carberry, of the awful fact, that 
there are two Jnindred thousand more women than 
men in Massachusetts alone t 

Carberry. 
Oh, horrible, — most horrible ! 

Mr. Wigfall. 

Yes, and every year it gets worse and worse, — 
all the children now are girls. I 've seven myself. 
( The bahy cries.) " Talk of the angel." — There 's my 

youngest now. \Goes to the cradle and hushes the baby. 

Enter Judge Wigfall in robes, ermine, and lo7ig poivdered 
wig, with a brief in her hand. 

Carberry [astonished). 

Who can this be } Joe ! 



THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 3$ 

Mr. Wigfall {sitting down with the baby). 

Tom, this is Her Honour, Judge Wigfall, of the 
Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court. She *s 
hen of the walk, now. 

Carberry. 
Good Heavens ! 

Mr. Wigfall. 
My dear, do you recognize an old friend ? 

Judge [to Carberry). 
Pardon me, sir, if I do not at once recall you. 
In what case did you appear before me } 

Carberry. 
Case } Susan ! Judge ! Don't you remember 
Tom Carberry } 

Judge. 
Carberry, — Carberry, — versus whom } 

Mr. Wigfall. 
Stuff and nonsense, my dear You recol- 
lect Tom, — went off to China ten years ago, — 
don't be a goose. 

Judge. 
Mr. Wigfall ! Respect this Court ! 

Mr. Wigfall. 
You can't have forgotten our cosy evenings to- 
gether, — he and I smoking, and you darning the 
children's stockings. 



36 THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 

Judge. 

I remember nothing before I was called to the 

Bar. 

Mr. Wigfall. 

And that famous pigeon-pie you made us your- 
self the day we ... . 

Judge. 
Mr. Wigfall ! ( To Carberry.) Sir, I dimly recall 
you now, and I welcome you back to this regener- 
ated land. 

Carberry {bowing). 

And permit me to congratulate you on your 
singular elevation. 

Mr. Wigfall {rocking the cradle). 

Well, my dear, how was it to-day } — Plaintiff 
or defendant 1 

Judge. 

Pardon me, Mr, Wigfall, if I decline to make 
my grave judicial duties a subject of merriment 
for you. 

Mr. Wigfall. 

How often did you change your mind to-day } 

Judge. 
Mr. Wigfall, I never change my mind. 

Mr. Wigfall. 

Oh, fie, fie ! Judges should n't tell fibs. Did n't 
I go to hear you try your first case } 



THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 3/ 

Judge. 
I take no notice of idlers who hang round the 

Court-room. 

Mr. Wigfall. 

And did n't you first charge the jury to be sure 
and let the poor devil off, — and when they had 
been out ten minutes, did n't you send for them 
back, on second thoughts, and charge them all 
over again to convict him ? 

Judge. 
Mr. Wigfall, you cannot be expected to under- 
stand the intricacies of the law. During the inter- 
val you allude to, I was informed by Mrs. Attorney- 
General Talker that the prisoner in question^ had 
been a noted and violent opponent of the Emanci- 
pation of Women. 

Mr. Wigfall. 
And so that was your reason for having him 
convicted of forgery, eh .'' 

Judge. 
Mr. Wigfall, Chief Justice Mansfield held that 
Judges should never give their reasons. More- 
over, it is perfectly competent for me to change 
my mind without any reason, — and had I done 
so twenty years ago, in j^oiir case, Mr. Wigfall, it 
would have been a wise decision. 

Mr. Wigfall. 
From which I should never have appealed ! 



38 THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 

Judge. 

Are you in one of the learned professions, Mr. 
Carberry ? 

Carberry. 

No, madam, I am a tea-merchant. 

Judge. 

The Male mind, as a rule, is unfitted for the 
learned professions, — the law especially, — from 
its habit of jumping to conclusions. We are slow 
in forming a judgment, it is true, — but, once 
formed, it is unalterable. You agree with me, sir.'* 

Carberry [bowing). 
I should never think of differing from a lady. 

Judge. 

You mean that our opinions cannot fail to be 
correct, from the logical character of the Female 
mind } 

Carberry. 

Exactly, madam, — I have always observed it to 
be so. 

[During this conversation Mr. Wigfall is playing bo-peep with 
the baby. 

Judge. 

At the same time, as one of a Conservative 
Judiciary, I shall always tolerate Man in his prop- 
er sphere, and never countenance .... [Suddenly 



THE .SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 39 

changing her tone.) Mr. Wigfall ! I wish you 'd take that 
child up stairs, — I can't hear myself speak 

Mr. Wigfall {aside to Carberry). 

Come, Tom, let 's go and sit in the nursery. 
\Exit Mr. Wigfall zvith the baby,folloi.oedby Carberry. 

Judge. 

I say, I shall tolerate you in your proper sphere, 
and never countenance the popular doctrine of the 
complete Mental and Moral Inferiority of Man. 
I shall always be ready to guarantee your Equal 

Rights. {Looks round and sees no one.) Gone ! While I 

was speaking ! how extraordinary ! 

Enter Victor I NE. 

VlCTORINE. 

Oh, where 's Mr. Carberry, mamma "i 

Judge. 

He is up stairs with your father, — minding the 
baby. (Victorine isgoing.) Stop, my daughter. I 
wish to speak to you. {Seating herself.) Havc you 
read your Blackstone to-day } 

Victorine. 
Yes, — no, — well, some of it. 

Judge. 
And your Coke upon Littleton } 



40 THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 

VrCTORTNE. 

Oh, I can't make head or tail of that nasty thing. 

Judge {t/iouj-nfulh). 
Victorine, you will break your mother's heart ! 
You have the finest opening of any girl in Boston, 

— and the best example, — and if you loved your 
Blackstone, and your Cruise's Digest, you might 
become, like me, the ornament of the Suffolk Bar. 
But who do you suppose would ever give yon a 
brief .-* You don't deserve to be my daughter, — 
and the end of it will be, you '11 have to marry, — 
you are not fit for anything better ! 

\Bur sting into tens. 

ViCTORTNE. 

I don't want anything better ! 

Judge. 
Because you have never risen above the level of 
girls before the Revolution. I give you up, and I 
shall centre all my hopes upon your sister Portia, 

— a child of great promise, — who cj'ies for 
Cruise's Digest. 

Victorine {dapping her hands). 
Hurrah ! then I need n't be a lawyer, after all ! 

Judge. 
But you must be provided for ; and, since you 
are too lazy for the Law, and too giddy for the 
Church, and too pretty for a Family Physician, — 



THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 4I 

I see but one resource. — What do you think of 
this Mr. Carberry ? 

ViCTORINE. 

I think he 's awfully jolly, mamma, — but do let 
me go ! 

Judge. 

I wish you to give up calling me " Mamma." It 
is unsuited to my present dignity. I wear my 
robes of office in private life, on purpose to inspire ./ 
respect. The Lord Chancellor Erskine (though a 
man) most pertinently says, " Supreme Judges 
should always be seen in grave and suitable 
habits of distinction, to point out their stations, 
and continue the reverence inspired by their 
dignified appearance when administering the 
laws." — But to return to Mr. Carberry. — If I 
were you, Victorine, I should propose to him, 
immediately. 

Victorine. 

Oh, mamma .... Your Honour, I mean .... 
I could n't, possibly 

Judge. 

Why not ? They say he has made a large 
fortune. 

Victorine. 

Oh, I could n't, indeed I should die of 

mortification. 



42 THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 

Judge. 
Well, my daughter, if you don't secure him, he 
will certainly be snapped up by some of those 
manoeuvring- fathers, who are always on the look- 
out. 

ViCTORINE. 

I can't help it. I shall wait. Who knows ? 
he might ask me. 

Judge. 
Men never do now, — that custom is exploded. 

ViCTORINE. 

Besides, / believe there is such a thing as falling 
in love, after all. 

Judge {rising). 
I tell you, love is as obsolete as a line-of-battle 
ship. Wives iide their husbands, and the memory 
of woman runneth not to the contrary. But do 
as you like. For my part, I disapprove of marriage 
altogether. I consider it a waste of time for any 
intelligent woman ; but yoii will never be able to 
earn your salt in any decent calling, and you 
must either marry — or be sent to Congress. 

ViCTORINE. 

I don't care. / sha' n't ask Jiiin. 

Judge. 
Just as you please, — but mark my words, — 
he '11 be snapped up within twenty-four hours. 

\Exit Judge. 



THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 43 

ViCTORINE. 

It 's a dreadful trial to a girl to have a Judge 
for her mamma ! I don't like to go and look for 
Mr. Carberry, after what she said. Perhaps, if I 
sing soniething, he will hear it and come down. 

(S/no-s.) 

Come into the garden, George, 

Don't sit there all night and drone. 
Come into the garden, George, 
I am smoking here, alone. 
And the smell of your Meerschaum is wafted abroad, 
And the scent of Cabaiias blown. 

For a breeze of evening moves, 

And the planet of Love doth rise, 
I 'm beginning to puff the weed we love 

In a smoky Paradise. 
To puff in great clouds the tobacco we love, 

From a pipe coloured brown as your eyes. 

Come into the garden, George, &c. &c. 
Enter Carberry zohilst she sings. 

Carberry. 

Miss Victorine ! Charmed to see you again. 
Do you come from the Opera } 

Victorine. 

No, only from playing a game of billiards at the 
Club, — but all the jolly girls had gone to ride a 
steeple-chase, and there was only the marker to 
play with, — who 's a horrid old woman, — so I 
came home. 



44 THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 

Carberry. 
And how is your interesting reptile ? 

ViCTORINE. 

Oh, you called him ugly, so I threw hini out of 
the window. — Now I want to ask your advice 
about a profession. I have been thinking about 
it for a whole half-hour. I hate the law, and I 
think I '11 be a doctor, — would you ? 

Carberry. 
A doctor ! No, certainly not. What on earth 
should you know about doctoring ? 

ViCTORINE. 

Oh, I know a good deal about it. I 've skimmed 
over half a fat book on Rheumatism. And you 
know I 've got to do something. Girls must 
earn their living, because there are two hundred 
thous .... 

C arberry (interrupting ha') . 

Yes, yes, I know, — but I advise you to retain 
your natural profession. 

ViCTORINE. 

What 's that ? 

Carberry {zuit/i a lozv bow). 
Being a charming young lady. 

ViCTORINE. 

I never heard any one say such pretty things 
as you do ! And, by the way, you were beginning 



THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 45 

to tell me something very interesting when that 

provoking train interrupted us About 

those friends of yours who were so much in love, 
you know. 

Carberry. 

It would sound very flat at second hand. 

ViCTORINE. 

Yes, it is a pity you have not been in love 
yourself, for then you could describe it better ; — 
but never mind, — do try. What did your friends 
do first ? 

Carberry. 

Well, first, I suppose they would tell the young 
lady she was charming. 

ViCTORINE [aside). 

Exactly what he said to me just now. {Aloud.) 
Well .? — go on. 

Carberry. 

Then they would perhaps send flowers, and go 
to church with her very regularly, and say they 
liked it. 

ViCTORINE. 

Yes, — and what next } 

Carberry. 

Then, if they were very far gone, and she ob- 
jected, perhaps they 'd give up smoking, — but 
that was only in extreme cases. 



46 THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 

ViCTORINE. 

Oh, but is that all ? did n't they say anything ? 

Carberry, 
Well, — yes, — if they got a good chance, and 
could screw up their courage, perhaps they would 
take the young lady's hand (/(//v;/^ Victorine's) and 
say .... 

ViCTORINE. 

Well, — what ? Why do you stop ? They would 
say . . . . ? 

Carberry [tenderly). 

They would say, — Dearest .... what lovely 
weather ! 

Enter Mrs. Badger. 

Mrs. Badger. 
How are you, fellows ? 

Carberry [aside). 
Thunder ! what a bore ! Just as I had almost 
made up my mind to go it ! Why, it 's that In- 
fernal Revenue woman ! 

ViCTORINE [tartly). 

If you have come to see Aunt Wolverine, she is 
out, Mrs. Badger. 

Mrs. Badger. 
No, my business is with Carberry here. [To 
Carberry.) I saw you, just now, looking out of the 



THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 47 

nursery window, so I stepped in, to continue our 
little conversation about your income. I must 
trouble you to go away, Miss Victorine, as Income 
Returns are strictly confidential. 

Victorine. 
Confidential ? Yes, till j/oii publish them in the 
newspaper. {Aside.) Provoking creature ! 

[£xi^ Victorine. 

Mrs. Badger. 
Now then ! make haste, — for it's getting late, 
and you know you '11 be taken up, if you are out 
after ten. 

Carberry. 

Taken up ! What for ? 

Mrs. Badger. 
New order of the Board of Alderwomen, "Any 
man, found absent from his home after ten o'clock 
at night, fined for a misdemeanour." The City 
Grandmothers mean to put a stop to men's staying 
out till cock-crow, and making their wives sit up 
for them. 

Carberry. 

I shall go directly back to China. 

Mrs. Badger. 
You made a large fortune out there, did n't you ? 

Carberry. 
It 's the only country fit to live in, — they 
drown the superfluous females young ! 



y 



48 THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 

Mrs. Badger. 
Come ! don't shilly-shally. What 's your income ? 

Carberry [rdudajitly). 

Well, perhaps ten thousand dollars, 

Mrs. Badger {^vriting it down). 
Married, or single t 

Carberry. 
Oh, single, certainly. 

Mrs. Badger, 
Age, then .'' 

Carberry. 
Madam t 

Mrs. Badger. 
Well, — age .'' 

Carberry. 

Madam, I don't see what my age has to do 

with my income. 

Mrs. Badger. 
Fiddle ! Come, how old are you } 

Carberry, 
Madam, permit me to say that it is none of your 
business, 

Mrs. Badger. 

It is, — my very particular business, as long as 
you are unmarried, — *' Special Income-tax for Bach- 
elors over thirty years of age, — fifty per cent." 

Carberry. 
Fifty per cent ! Monstrous ! I don't believe it. 



THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 49 

Mrs. Badger. 
There 's the printed form. {Hands it to him.) 

Carbehry. 
This comes of your infernal female legislating, I 
suppose ! It 's unconstitutional ! It 's anarchical ! 
It 's despotic ! I won't submit to it ! 

Mrs. Badger. 
Large excess of women over men in the United 
States. Majority two hundred thousand in Mass- 
achusetts alone. Majorities are always right, you 
know. 

Carberry. 

And am I to be the victim of your horrible 

statistic 1 

Mrs. Badger {coolly^. 

If a man chooses to give himself the luxury of 
being a bachelor, he must pay for it, like other ^ 
luxuries. All the men take it hard, at first, but 
they soon come round. So don't bother, but just 
tell me your age. 

Carberry, 

Nineteen ! 

Mrs. Badger. 

Fiddle ! if you don't tell the truth, I shall put 
you down as fifty. You 're thirty-five, if you 're a 
day. When was your birthday t 

Carberry. 
Yesterday ! I came of age. 



50 THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 

Mrs. Badger. 
Very well! — {Writing.) "Thomas Carberry, 
Bachelor, age, fifty." It 's a retrospective tax, 
you know, — takes in every year since you were 
thirty, — fifty per cent on ten thousand dollars for 
twenty years .... five times twenty .... One 
hundred thousand dollars, you will please hand 
over to the government, and I '11 give you a receipt. 

Carberry. 
Outrageous ! I 'm only thirty-two, I '11 take my 
oath of it ! It 's an extortion, — a swindle, — an 
infamous swindle ! 

Mrs. Badger. 
If you are not satisfied, I '11 call you sixty, — 
I 've a right to make you any age I please. 

Carberry [getting more and more angry). 

A right! And /'ve a right — an inalienable 
right — to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happi- 
ness ! Are Men's Rights trampled underfoot t Is 
there no Antislavery sentiment left in Boston 1 
No Society for the Abolition of Women t What 
arc all the philanthropists about, now-a-days, I 
should like to know t 

Mrs. Badger. 

It would be clearly unjust, in a Republican 

country, and contrary to the Spirit of the Age, if 

a great strong man, like you, were allowed to live 

in wealth and idleness, while two hundred thou- 



THE SPIRIT OF SEVExNTY-SIX. 5 I 

SAND SINGLE WOMEN in youi" own State have to 
support themselves. If you won't marry, you must 
make it up to them in another way. 

Carberry [exasperated). 

And do you pretend to say that fifty cents 
apiece is going to make up to them for not marry- 
ing me ? — I never would have left China, if I 'd 
had any conception of this ! Women legislating, 
and robbing, and murdering ! — It has no parallel 
in history ! Draco and Robespierre were kittens, 
compared to them ! It 's enough to make George 
Washington turn in his grave ! Madam ! I . . . . 
I .... I wish you a good evening! {Rushes out.) 

Mrs. Badger [calling after him). 

I '11 send you the bill to-morrow. 



52 THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTV-SIX. 



ACT III. 

Drawing-room in Mr. WigfaWs house. Carberry 

alone. 

Carberry [pidls out a note and reads). 

" Seven o'clock, .... call here .... impor- 
tant communication, .... yours truly ever .... 
Wolverine Griffin." .... Well, that 's beyond 
me ! but I may get another look at Victorine by 
being here. I came home with the idea of marry- 
ing some nice pretty little wife, such as they used 
to have, — who would make much of me, and give 
me good dinners, and look pretty at the head of 
the table, — which is all a man wants in a wife. 
But they have all turned into such catamarans, 
that I feel discouraged .... that is, all except 
Victorine 

Enter Miss Griffin. 

Miss Griffin. 
Mr. Carberry, hozv kind ! you were not uneasy } 
I am a little late. Excuse me, — sit down, and 
I '11 explain. But, first, it may be proper to 
review the events of the past ten years. 

Carberry. 
'Hem. [Lookhig at his watch.) We might do five 
to-day, and the rest some rainy afternoon. Begin, 
madam ; I am all attention. 



THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 53 

Miss Griffin. 

You find a great change in our midst, my dear 
sir, on your return. Woman has taken her right- 
ful place, and, no longer the Slave of Man, shares 
with you the duties and responsibilities of citizen- 
ship. A glorious change, Mr. Carberry. 

Carberry. 
A very striking change, indeed, madam. 

Miss Griffin. 

A glorious change, Mr. Carberry ! The cruel 
Past is wiped out, with all its brutal, barbarous 
conventionalities, and the Female is free ! When 
you went abroad, my dear Mr. Carberry, she had 
no initiative, — positively no initiative. Her af- 
finities were stifled, and her tongue was paralyzed. 
It was her humble part to silently await the 
Coming Man, who, perhaps, never came, or might 
better have stayed away. 

Carberry. 

A trying position, certainly. [Aside.) Thunder ! 
what a bore she is ! 

Miss Griffin. 

It was a cruel, cruel law which debarred us from 
the free exercise of our choice in the most im- 
portant crisis of our lives. With perceptions, too, 
so 'much finer than those of Man, by which to 
detect the right person at once. 



54 '-I'HE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 

Carberry. 

Precisely But I think you spoke of wish- 
ing to see me on business ? 

Miss Griffin. 

Now, Woman, trusting to her unerring instinct, 
goes frankly to the man of her choice, and gives 
him her hand with her heart in it ... . tJms .... 

{Offering her hand.) 

Servant [at the door). 

Miss Griffin, the Chairwoman of the Committee 
for the Suppression of Male Dinner-parties is 
down stairs, — says she must see you on business. 

Miss Griffin. 

Provoking ! But you sit perfectly still, and I '11 
be back directly. {^Ex'u Miss Griffin. 

Carberry [alone). 

Good Heavens ! what a dreadful situation I am 
in ! This woman is evidently going to make me 
an offer of marriage ! What shall I do } — What 
can I say } — What on earth was it young ladies 
used to say in the good old times.'' — I am so 
upset, I can't even recollect what that pretty 
Fanny Slippery said to me in Shanghae ! This is 
a thousand times worse than being refused one's 
self .... Let me see .... Fanny made at least 
a dozen excellent excuses .... too young .... 
short acquaintance .... inexperience .... 



THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 55 

Re-enter Miss Griitin. 

Miss Griffin. 

An unwelcome interruption, but you won't think 
the worse of me for putting public duty before 
private feeling. " I could not love thee, dear, so 
much, loved I not honour more." .... Dear Mr. 
Carberry, you can't have mistaken me. 

Carberry. 

Forgive me. Miss Griffin, but on so short an 
acquaintance .... I assure you I never sup- 
posed .... 

Miss Griffin. 

Yes, it is short, as the world counts time, — but 
what of that, since henceforth our whole lives 
will be devoted to each other "i 

Carberry. 

Indeed, I never imagined that your feelings for 
me were more than a mere passing admiration .... 

Miss Griffin. 

That shows you have no comprehension of the 
transcendent Truthfulness of Woman. We should 
scorn to pay attentions to a young man, and win 
his timid affections, and then shy off, and mean 
nothing after all. Oh no, my dearest Thomas, I 
am deeply, terribly in earnest ! 

Carberry. 
I am most sorry, l^elieve me. if any thoughtless- 



56 THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 

ness of mine has encouraged these hopes. (AsiWe.) 
Thunder ! how hard she is to refuse ! {Aloud.) I 
have no idea of marrying, I assure you. 

Miss Griffin. 
And why not } Why bloom a single rose ? 

Carberry. 
Oh, I 'm too young ! 

Miss Griffin. 
I will wait. 

Carberry. 

I am so ignorant, so inexperienced .... I am 
not worthy of you. Forget me, I entreat you, 
and be happy with another ! 

Miss Griffin. 
Never ! My happiness depends on your con- 
sent ! I '11 blow my brains out if you refuse ! 

{Goes down on hei- knees.) I will llOt live withoUt yOU ! 
{Seizing his hand.) 

Carberry {trying to get away). 

Don't, — don't, — my dear Miss Griffin ! Get 
up, I beg of you ! you distress me exceedingly ! 

Miss Griffin. 
No ! I '11 take root at your feet ! I '11 never 
get up till you give in. 

Carberry {in despair). 
Well, well .... I hear some one coming, — 



THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 5/ 

only get up, and I '11 see about it, — I 'II refer you 
to my father .... 

Enter Judge, 

Miss Griffin {risii^g). 

My dear sister, congratulate me ; Mr. Carberry 
has promised to be mine ! 

Judge {aside). 

Just as I said ! he is snapped up. Quam celeri- 
ter ! {Aloud.) Wolverine, there are higher aims 
than marriage for the Women of ''j^, — and, from 
my own experience, I think a woman's career is 
hampered by a husband. But try it, if you like. 
Do you wish to be married immediately .'* 

Miss Griffin. 
/ 'm all ready. 

Judge. 

Then I will receive your declaration, which is 
all that is necessary to constitute a legal marriage. 

Miss Griffin. 
You begin, dear Carberry. 

Carberry. 

Oh, impossible ! quite impossible ! My con- 
science would never permit such a thing. I 
should n't feel married at all, unless it were in 
church. 

3* 



y 



58 THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 

Judge. 

Sir, religion has been reconstructed, — and such 
superstitions are out of date. 

Miss Griffin. 

Yes, I wonder you should cling to those old- 
fashioned prejudices. However, if you really 
prefer it, we can send for the clergy woman. The 
Rev. Arabella Parsons lives next door. 

Carberry. 

Oh no, you must n't hurry me, indeed. I . . . . 
I . . . . {Struck by an idea.) I want at least three 
months to send to Paris for my trousseau. I could 
n't think of having my wedding coat made in 
Boston. I won't be married at all unless I can 
have a proper wedding. 

Judge [indignantly.) 

A proper wedding ! Sir, I would have you to 
know that a contract made before me is eminently 
a proper wedding. A simple declaration of your 
intention is all-sufficient in the eye of the law. 
In fact, I believe you have both already said so, 
and I shall proceed to make out the necessary 
certificate, without loss of time. {Takes a pen.) 

C A R R E R R Y ( seizing h er a rni ) . 

No ! I '11 swear .... I mean, I 'm sure I 
did n't ... . you misunderstood me. I beg you, 
ladies, to give me a little time to recover myself. 



THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX, 59 

.... This .... happiness .... has been so 

unexpected, I feel quite overcome I will 

give you an answer by and by ... . but now I 
have a severe headache .... brought on by 
nervous excitement 

Miss Griffin. 

Nervous excitement ! Shaker Extract of Va- 
lerian is what you want. Lie down on the sofa, 
and put your feet up, and I '11 bring you some in 
a quarter of an hour. {Making Carberry lie down.) 

Judge {looking at him with disdain). 

Men are not like us, Wolverine. They have no 
strength of mind. 
\Exeimt Miss Griffin and Judge. Carberry covers his face 
with his handkerchief and groans. 

Eitter Mrs. Badger, who goes to the sofa and peeps under 
the handkercJiief, 

Mrs. Badger. 

Ah, Carberry ! I thought I should find you here 
.... about that little matter of the hundred 
thousand dollars, you know. 

Carberry. 

Oh, go away — I 'm ill .... I 'm very busy 
.... I 'm asleep .... I can't attend to you 
now. 

Mrs. Badger. 

I always like to be accommodating, and I 've 
thought of a way to settle it. 



6o THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 

Carberry [reviving a Utile). 

What ? 

Mrs. Badger. 

You must marry at once. 

Carberry. 
I won't, — / zvojit, — I won't ! 

Mrs, Badger. 

That will exempt you from the Bachelor's Tax 
in future, — but the retrospective hundred thou- 
sand dollars will remain to be paid, sinless you 
marry the right person, — and tJiere is but one. 

Carberry. 
Who ? in the name of thunder ! 

Mrs. Badger. 
ME. 

Carberry. 

You ! You 're married already ! It says " Mrs." 

on your confounded card [Pulling it out 

of his pocket.) Where is Mr. Badger.'* I appeal to 
Mr. Badger for protection ! 

Mrs. Badger. 

Fiddle ! Mr. Badger has been dead and buried 
these seven years. 

Carberry. 
A widow ! I never thought of that. [Sinks into 

a chair.) 



THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 6 1 

Mrs. Badger. 
You see, if you marry me, I '11 let you off pay- 
ing the money to the government, and we '11 
spend it together. 

Carberry. 
Venal and corrupt official ! — is that the way 
you betray your trust ? I '11 denounce you ! I '11 / 

publish it in all the papers ! I '11 have you turned 
out ! 

Mrs. Badger. 

Pooh ! You would n't be so silly, — for then 
you 'd have to pay up .... twenty years from 
thirty to fifty .... 

Carberry {furious). 
I tell you I 'm not fifty .... I '11 call the 
police ! . . . . Miss Griffin ! Miss Griffin ! 

Miss Griffin (running in). 

Miss Griffin. 
What 's the matter "i 

Carberry. 
Take away this assessor ! She 's offering her- 
self to me ! 

Miss Griffin. 

You, Badger } How audacious ! He 's engaged 
to me. 

Mrs. Badger. 

He has changed his mind, — he prefers me. 



y 



62 THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 

Miss Griffin. 

Badger, I 'm ashamed of you ! Annoying a 
poor young man in this way ! What would be- 
come of him if he had n't me to protect him ? 

Mrs. Badger. 

Nonsense ! we were making a Uttle business ar- 
rangement .... you only bother us, — you have 
n't any head for business, Griffin, — you 're too 
sentimental, — you 'd better go away. 

Miss Griffin. 

Yes, and it *s precisely that delicacy of senti- 
ment that Mr. Carberry admires in me. I hope I 
do my duty as a woman and a citizen, though I 
/zave nt sunk into a mere business hack, without 
a thought beyond money-making, like you, Mrs. 



Badger. 



Mrs. Badger. 



Fiddle ! Why don't you speak up, Carberry } — 
what are you thinking of .-^ 



Carberry. 



Madam, I was thinking of the Kilkenny cats, 
and the admirable end of their quarrel ! 



Miss Griffin. 



Barbara Badger, if you don't go directly away, 
I '11 impeach you at the next Town Meeting for 
embezzlement of the public money. 



THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 6^ 

Mrs. Badger. 
Well, I can't stop now to discuss it. I '11 see 

you by and by But you have n't a chance, 

Griffin, — there are one hundred thousand argu- 
ments against you. — Voi^ 7/ see which way he 
makes up his mind ! 

[Exit Mrs. Badger, 7iodding signifiauitly. 

Miss Griffin. 
You see, my dear Mr. Carberry, that it is abso- 
lutely necessary we should be married immediately, 
or you would be exposed to this sort of thing 
every day. I think we had better say to-morrow, 
— and, as you seem to fancy a showy wedding, 
I '11 send word directly to the other Selectwomen, 
and the School Committee, to come in from the 
Centre, by the ten o'clock train, and walk in pro- 
cession with us to the church. 

\Exit Griffin. 

Carberry. 
There is something fatally attractive about me ! 

Enter ViCTORiNE. 

ViCTORINE. 

Here 's a note for you, Mr. Carberry, — from a 

lady. [Handing it to him.) 

Carberry. 

I won't read it ! it may be another. [Tears it up.) 

ViCTORINE. 

Another what } It 's an invitation to Mrs. 



64 THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 

Butterfly's ball. I 'm going, — I '11 take you. 
.... What 's the matter ? Are you ill ? 

Carberry. 

Miss Wigfall, I 'm on the brink of an abyss, — 
two abysses in fact. Your aunt intends to marry 
me. 

ViCTORINE. 

My aunt ! You 're joking ! Why, she 's a great 
deal older than you ! It is n't possible that you 
.... care for my aunt, Mr. Carberry ? 

Enter Miss Griffin, tvJw listens tmperceived. 

Carberry. 

Care for her t I 'm afraid of her ! I am being 
dragged like a lamb to the altar ! I said all I 
could, — I repeated every excuse that I remem- 
bered a young lady made .... I mean, that I 
thought a young lady would make in such a case, 
but it was no use ! — no use ! 

ViCTORINE {sighing). 

Oh ! how I wish I had minded mamma ! 

Carberry. 

I arrived here yesterday, so innocent and so 
happy, — and I find everything upset and topsy- 
turvy, with all this voting, and assessing, and 
judging, — and dreadful old maids swooping down 
upon one, like hawks, — and widows, like roaring 



THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 65 

lions ! . . . . You alone seem to me an innocent 
dove, a thousand times more charming by contrast 
.... and . . . . I 've got to marry somebody \/ 

.... I mean, I love you passionately .... only 
I should n't have told you so for months, under 
happier circumstances .... I 'm a shy man 
naturally .... but now I 'm goaded to despe- 
ration ! 

ViCTORlNE {crying). 

O ! Mr. Carberry, why did n't you say so sooner .-* 

Carberry. 
Sooner ! I had n't a chance ! I 'm a slow man 
naturally, — I 'm not used to these railway methods, 
— and how could I ever have dreamed that your 
terrible aunt would mark me for her own ! 

{Here Miss Griffin, who has heard all this, darts out again 

unperceived.) 

ViCTORINE. 

Well {Sob)^ perhaps it 's all for the best ! . . . . 
I '11 try and take an interest in {Sob) politics .... 
and forget it ... . but {Sob) I shall always love 
you . ... as an nncle ! 

Re-enter Miss Griffin, with two pistols. 

Miss Griffin {to Carberry). 
Traitor ! which will you have } [Victorine shrieks. 

Carberry. 
Neither, thank you. 

£ 



J 



66 THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 

Miss Griffin, 
No trifling, traitor ! I have heard all, and I 
demand satisfaction. 

ViCTORINE. 

O aunt ! please don't be angry, — I '11 give him 

up ! 

Miss Griffin. 

There is but one reparation you can make me, 
Mr. Carberry, — take your choice. 

Carberry. 
They have got over being afraid of pistols, too ! 

ViCTORINE. 

O aunt ! you shall have him indeed, — only don/ 
hurt him. 

Miss Griffin. 

No compromise with traitors ! (Sternly.) Mr. 
Carberry, are you a gentleman } 

Carberry. 
No ! Are you "^ 

Miss Griffin. 
Man ! Would you rather be hanged } Don't 
you know Breach of Promise is a capital crime } 

ViCTORINE {wringing her hands). 

And the Governess will never pardon you ! 

Carberry. 
Well, if you ivill have it so, I '11 name a friend 



THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 6/ 

to arrange the place of meeting. [Aside.) I '11 take 
the first train to New York. 

Miss Griffin. 
Mr. Carberry, I never lose time. Seconds and 
intermediaries would only cause delay. This 
quarrel is between you and me, and we will settle 
it this minute, in this apartment, without any 
more words. Victorine, have the goodness to 
walk twelve paces, taking as long steps as you 
can. 

Victorine. 
I sha' n't ! I won't ! I '11 call papa ! 

[Exit, crying *' Papa ! Papa ! " 

(Miss Griffin measicres the distance herself, thrusts one of 
the pistols into Carberry's hand, and takes Jier place). 

Cariserry. 

I wish I was back in Shanghae ! 

Miss Griffin. 
Now, are you ready .'' When I say " three!* 

. . . . (Carberry covers her with his pistol.) Mr. Car- 
berry ! put that weapon down, sir ! .... When 
I say " three " . . . . 

Carberry. 
By Jove ! I '11 kill her ! [Covers her again.) 

Miss Griffin. 

Will you observe the rules, sir .-^ ... . When 
I say ''three,'' we fire One, — Two — 



6S THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 

£nler Judge, /ol/oivcd by ViCTORiNE, a7id Mr. Wigfall carrying 

the baby. 

Judge. 

I arrest you both, in the name of the Common- 
wealth of Massachusetts ! 

Miss Griffin. 

Susan, why could n't you have stayed away five 
minutes longer ! 

Judge. 

Mr. Wigfall, I appoint you Special Constable to 
secure these persons, discovered flagrante delicto, 
in the very act of breaking the peace of the 
Commonwealth. 

(Mr. Wigfall ptits the baby down on the sofa, and takes hold of 

Griffin.) 

Carberry. 

I thank your Honour from the bottom of my 
heart. 

Judge. 

JPrisoners : It is my painful duty to remind you 
both, that, Whereas, the trial by wager of battle has 
long been obsolete, you have incurred a penalty of 
twenty years in the State's Prison, for duelling in 
Massachusetts. Wherefore, as guardian of the 
public morals, it also becomes my painful duty to 
send at once for the proper officers of justice, that 
you may be tried, and convicted for that offence. 



THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 69 

Carberry. 
Nothing can hurt me now. 

Carberry and Griffin stand Right and Left with folded arms. 

ViCTORINE. 

O mamma ! forgive them this once ! Punish 
aunt, if you will — 

Carberry. 
Yes, punish aunt ! 

ViCTORINE. 

It was all her fault, .... but don't put Mr. 
Carberry in prison ! 

Judge. 
Child ! he has violated the law. 

ViCTORINE {imploringly). 

But no one will ever know, if we don't tell. 
Don't say anything about it, that 's a dear 

mamma. 

Judge. 

And my own conscience, Victorine } Forbear, 
I am incorruptible. 

Mr. Wigfall. 
That 's right, my dear, — Smite 'em with the 
Sword of Justice ! 

ViCTORINE [aside to Mr. Wigfall). 
O papa, how can you be so unkind } I thought 
you were on our side. 



70 THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 

Mr. Wigfall {aside to Victorine). 

Be quiet, child. I have n't Hved twenty years 
with your mother without finding out that the 
way to manage her is to give her her head. 

Judge. 

Distressing as it is to my personal feelings, the 
Majesty of the Law must be vindicated. 

Mr. Wigfall. 

Bully for you ! Fiat yustitia ! Don't let 'em 

off. 

Judge. 

Mr. Wigfall ! in this momentous crisis, I con- 
sider your remarks in the worst possible taste. 

Mr. Wigfall. 

Why, I only said " Fiat yiLstitia!' Does n't the 
learned Judge know what that means 1 

Judge. 

Silence, Constable ! — As I said before, I stand 
here clothed in the Panoply of Justice, resolved 
to steel my heart, and execute the Law, — cost 
what it may. 

Mr. W^igfall. 

Off with their heads ! Ritat Caelum ! Be a 
Spartan Mother ! Be a Roman Father ! 

Judge. 
Silence ! 



THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. /I 

Mr. W IGF all. 

Remember Brutus ! Three cheers for the Bos- 
ton Brutus ! Hip, Hip .... 

Judge [exploding). 

Mr. Wigfall, you are perfectly unbearable ! I 
don't care one pin for Brutus, and I ivill let them 
off, — just to spite you, — and to show you that I 
am independent of your sneers and innuendoes! 
Wolverine, I am thoroughly ashamed of yoiiy — 
but this once I will overlook it, on condition that 
you never have anything more to do with any 
man — or men — whomsoever. Victorine, if you 
laugh, I '11 commit you for contempt. 

Victorine. 

O you dear little mamma! I knew you'd stop 
being an upright Judge, and turn out my own 

kind little mamma at last. {Kisses her enthusiastically. 
Judge waves her off.) 

Judge. 

As for you, Mr. Carberry, I request you to inform 
the Court, whether you sincerely wish to marry 
my daughter. 

Carberry. 

Most assuredly I do, — I declare it before your 
Honour with the greatest pleasure. — Is that 
enough } Are we married now } Are you my 
mother-/;/-/^z£/ f 

Judge. 

No. You may have your "proper wedding," 



J 



72 THE SPIRIT OF SEVENTY-SIX. 

and be six months about it. — Here, Victorine, take 
him, he's yours. Be firm with him from the first, 
and perhaps you may be happy. When you want 
a divorce, petition me, while you are yet in my 
jurisdiction. But don't delay too long, for at 
no distant day, the nation will rise, like One 
Woman, to turn out the man, Chase, and you will 
see ME Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of 
the United States. 

[Retires majestically, followed by Mr. Wigfall, to the back of the 
stage. 

Carberry {to Miss Griffin). 

Madam, I hope you will forget the past, and 
believe me, I shall always regard you as a friend. 

Miss Griffin. 
Man, don't speak to me. 

Enter Mrs. Badger. 

Mrs. Badger. 
There, Griflfin, I told you so ! You see he has 
made up his mind — • 

Carberry. 

Yes, to marry Miss Wigfall. So you and your 

tax may go to Jericho! (/^j-/^^ ^"^ Mrs. Badger.) If 

you tell of me, I '11 tell of you, but [Aloud), believe 

me, madam, I shall always regard you as a friend. 

Mrs. Badger. 
Griffin, we 're both jilted ! Shall we go and 
drown ourselves in the Chestnut Hill Reservoir 1 



THE SPIRIT- OF SEVENTY-SIX. 73 

Miss Griffin. 

For a Man ? No, Badger, — we are States- 
women and Patriots. Let us rather renounce 
mankind and live for ourselves, — marching in 
the Van of the great Feminine Army of Progress, 
onward and upward forever ! And when our 
mission is accomphshed, and Woman of every 
colour, size, and shape reigns sui:)reme from Pole 
to Pole, — then shall the names of Griffin and 
Badger be transmitted to future generations, as 
great and glorious examples of the new Spirit 
OF Seventy-Six ! 

Curtain falls. 



Judge's Charge. 
Addressed to the Audience. 

Mrs. Forewoman, and Ladies of the Jury : You 
have now heard the facts, and it remains for you 
to find accordingly, divesting yourselves, as far as 
possible, of all individual bias, either for or against 
the defendant, — MAN, — and this Court will 
protect you in the performance of your duty. — 
The proper officer will now conduct the Jury to 
their room, and provide them with suitable re- 
freshment. 



f 



A CHANGE OF BASE. 



CHARACTERS, 



Captain Dashwood. 

Tarbox. 

Flora Favaway (iSftuzrs). 

Mlss Prim {/ler companion, \o years). 



A CHANGE OF BASE. 



SCENE I. 

Florals Drawing-room. — Flora seated., absorbed in 
reading a letter. — Enter Miss Frim. 

Prim. 
Miss Flora ! the cook has given warning ! Says 
she wants a wider range, and means to try Cali- 
fornia ! 

Flora. 

Oh, Miss Prim, don't trouble me about cooks 
now. 

Prim [excited). 

But what are we to do } 

Flora. 
Oh, do without eating ! To-day, of all days, I 
don't want to be worried. 

Prim. 
Why, is it to-day that you expect Mr. Tarbox } 

Flora. 
Yes ; but I wish. Miss Prim, you would n't pro- 
nounce his name that way. Can't you say " Mr. 
Tarbox " softly } — it sounds much prettier. 



80 A CHANGE OF BASE. 

Prim {sitting dcnvn to her sezviitg). 

Well, it is n't a very pretty name anyway. 
However, I '11 try. By what train do you antici- 
pate Mr. Ta-arbox .-* 

Flora. 
His letter did n't say. O ! Miss Prim, how lit- 
tle I thought, when, just for fun, I pinned my 
name and address on a pair of blue woollen socks 
for the Sanitary, — how little I thought that my 
fate was rolled up in them ! 

Prim. 

Yes, it 's fortunate that such a delightful person 

as yoii say Mr. Tarbox is, should have been the 

one to get them. He wrote to you at once, did n't 

he.? 

Flora. 

O yes ! I never shall forget my feelings when I 
received his first letter, — dated Camp Stanton. 
I couldn't help answering, — it was so touching. 
That was three months ago, and we have corre- 
sponded ever since ! 

Prim. 
It 's strange what luck young girls always have 
in such matters, to be sure ! It shows what fools 
men are. They overlook women of matured 
mind and experience, — to run after any chit of 
a girl, — just because she has a pretty face ! 

Flora. 
Well, Miss Prim, he did n't run after my face, 
for you know he has never seen it. 



A CHANGE OF BASE. 8 1 

Prim. 
No, and for my part, I think it very doubtful 
how such a match will turn out. Do you know 
anything of his position, or antecedents ? 

Flora. 
No, nothing, — and that's just what makes our 
engagement so delightfully odd and romantic. We 
know each other only through our letters, — and 
O ! Miss Prim, he does write such lovely letters. 
Did you ever have any love-letters. Miss Prim .'* 

Prim. 
Ahem, — no. It so happened that every one of 
my admirers offered himself by word of mouth, — 
and was rejected immediately. 

Flora. 
What a pity ! 

Prim. 

And have n't you told this Mr. Tarbox anything 
about yonr social position either } Does he think 
it " delightfully odd and romantic " to be kept in 
the dark, — or does he know that you are an 
orphan, and your own mistress .-* 

Flora. 
I told him nothing whatever. {Aside) I wanted 
him to love me for myself 

Prim. 
Are you quite sure he is not aware that you are 
rich ? 

4* F 



82 A CHANGE OF BASE. 

Flora. 

Oh, Miss Prim, you don't suppose I wrote about 

such things as money ? Besides, I had n't room. 

I never wrote 7nore than six or eight pages crossed, 

at a time. 

Prim.- 

He 's nothing but a private, is he ? 

Flora [wiih entJmsiasni). 
No, and that 's all the more noble in him ! Not 
to wait to be made Major-General, or Commander- 
in-Chief, as I know he deserves, but to volunteer at 
once to defend his country, even in the ranks ! 
I 've not the least doubt that he left a princely 
home, adorned with everything that makes life 
beautiful, at his country's call ! When I think 
of such devotion, my heart beats, — my cheeks 
burn — 

Prim. 

Hoity-toity ! you never made all this fuss when 
your cousin Captain Dashwood volunteered ! 

Flora. 
Oh, that was different. There is no sentiment 
or romance about Fred. He just went off at the 
beginning of the war, because he said it was his 
duty, — he never talked about his feelings, and 
treated the whole thing as a matter of course. 

Prim. 
There I quite agree with you. I always thought 
Captain Dashwood a disagreeable, conceited young 
man. 



A CHANGE OF BASE. 83 

Flora. 
O, Miss Prim, he is not ! How can you say so ! 

Prim (rising). 

Well, Miss Fayaway, I sincerely /lo/^e you may 
be happy. But if you want my candid opinion, I 
think you would be more sensible, if you were not 
in such a hurry, but were to wait till you are 
forty or forty-five years of age, and have some 
expe7'ieiice, before you think of matrimony ! 

\Exit. 

Flora {alone). 

How disagreeable Miss Prim is sometimes, to be 
sure ! She always seems annoyed when she hears 
of any one going to be married. And asking such 
tiresome questions too, — about '' money I' and '' po- 
sitioji" and '' antecedents',' — things that are not of 
the slightest consequence ! Ah ! there 'd be no 
need of asking that, if she had ever seen one of 
his dear letters! {Takes out letter and reads.) "When 
your lovely image floats before the mind's eye of 
your adorer, he feels that for the unspeakable bliss 
of your smile, he would gladly sacrifice his life ! " — 
Any one could see at once that this was written 
by a person of the most exquisite refinement of 
feeling, with the fire and imagination of a pi^ci ! 
Now 1 'm very fond of my cousin Fred, and he of 
me, — but he never wrote me such a letter as that. 

{Kisses letter and pnts it 7tear her heart.) I should be per- 
fectly happy if it were not for his name ! How 1 
do wish it was n't Tarbox ! But then I 've no 



84 A CHANGE OF BASE. 

doubt he has a lovely Christian name, — one 
suited to his noble self, — and of course I shall 
call him by that. He always signs " H. J. Tar- 
box," — H stands for Herbert, — O! I hope it 's 
Herbert! — I know it's Herbert ! {Bell rings.) Hark! 
there 's a ring ! Perhaps it 's he ! How my heart 
beats ! [Flies to the luindoiv.) Oh no ! — it 's not Her- 
bert, — it 's a very common-looking person, — an 
express-man, I should say. 

Entc7' Tarbox, in private'' s uniform., with light blue oz'ercoat, very 

shabby. 

Tarbox. 

Mornin' marm. I want to see Miss Flora Fay- 
away. 

Flora {coldly). 

I am Miss Fayaway. 

Tarbox. 

Be ye } Jerewsalem ! I 'd no notion you was 
sich a highflyer. Wal, my lovely gal, here 's your 
soldier, tired of war's alarms. 

Flora. 
What — what do you mean t ' 

Tarbox. 

Mean } Why, ain't I the feller you 've been 
writing to, these three months t My name 's 
Hezekiah J. Tarbox, at yer sarvice ; come back 
to marry you, accordin' to agreement. 



A CHANGE OF BASE. 85 

Flora [aside). 

O Heavens ! what shall I do ? Engaged to this 
horrid creature ! It 's impossible ! I don't believe 
it ! {Aloud.) Sir, I am sure there must be some 
mistake. 

Tarbox. 

Mistake ? Not a mite. Did n't you jest tell 
me you was Miss Fay away ? 

Flora. 

It 's quite impossible that yon ever wrote those 
letters. You don't sound like them ! 

Tarbox. 

Lord bless you, you don't suppose I got all that 
stuff out of my own head, do yer } I bought a 
" Complete Letter-writer," price 62^ cents, second- 
hand, and copied off the love-letters in reg'lar 
succession. I 've got it in my pocket now. Like 

to see it .'^ [Takes out shabby book and turns over leaves.) 

Let 's see .... No. 6 . . . . that 's called " For- 
mal Declaration," — after that, they keep pilin' up 
the agony, don't they .-^ There, here 's the last 
one I copied. [Reads.) " When your lovely image 
floats before the mind's eye of your adorer," — 
and a lot more. 

Flora [aside., tearing the letter from her heart). 

The very letter I was kissing just now ! 

[Flings it in the fire.) 



S6 A CHANGE OF BASE. 

Tarbox. 
It 's pretty lucky I got my discharge when I 
did, for I 'd got as far as No. 1 1, — and there 's only 
thirteen on 'em. Wal, we 've done with all that 
rubbish now. — (Lool-s around.) Fixed up pretty slick 
here. Pictures, — pianner-forty. — Where are the 
old folks ? 

Flora. 
The old folks > 

Tarbox. 

Yes, — yer father and mother. 

Flora. 
I am an orphan, sir. I am alone in the world. 

Tarbox [sitting dcnun). 

Du tell ! 

Flora {standing). 

And you, — where is your home } 

Tarbox. 
I reside in Skowhegan, Maine. I Ve got a 
little farm down there. Pray, miss, air you ac- 
quainted with butter and cheese making ? 

Flora. 
No, sir, I am not. 

Tarbox. 
D' ye understand fattenin pigs } 

Flora. 
No, indeed I do not, Mr. Tarbox, and I am 
surprised at your asking such a question ! 



A CHANGE OF BASE. 8/ 

Tarbox. 
Wal, what can ye do then ? What d' ye 'stow 
yer time on ? Can't yer do no kind o' work ? 

Flora. 
Certainly, crochet and worsted work. 

Tarbox. 
Wal, what else ? 

Flora. 

Oh, I play and sing, and make calls, and play 

croquet, and in the evening I go to the Opera, 

unless there is a party. 

Tarbox. 
We don't do none o' them things down to Skow- 

hegan. 

Flora. 

No, of course there are no amusements in such 
a place as that ! 

Tarbox. 
I bet you ! In winter we have quiltin' frolics, — 
and spring and fall there 's maple-candy scrapes, 
and parin' bees, — and we go to meetin' all the year 
raound. 

Enter Miss Prim. 

Flora [confused). 
My friend, Miss Prim, — Miss Prim, this is Mr. — 

Tarbox. 
Tarbox, marm. Hezekiah J., at your sarvice. 



SS A CHANGE OF BASE. 

Prim {surprised). 

Indeed ! I hope I see you well, sir. You have 
lately returned from the army, I believe .'' \Sits down 

near Tarbox ; Flora sinks into a chair beJiind them. 

Tarbox. 

Yes marm. I got kinder rheumaticky down 
there to Washington City, — all doubled up, and 
the Surgeon of our Regiment said I warn't no 
good, anyway, and might as well come home. 

Prim. 
We girls feel a deep interest in our brave 
defenders. Tell us of your sufferings. 

TARr;)x. 
Wal, marm, I was orjle sea-sick on the Sound, 
both goin' and comin'. 

Prim. 

1 

Oh, I didn't mean that. I meant your dangers. 

Tarbox. ■ 
Wal, twice I come plaguy near shootin' myself 
with my own gun. 

Flora {aside). 

I wish he had ! 

Prim. 

I did n't mean that, either. Tell us of the camp, 
— the midnight attack, and the hand-to-hand con- 
flict ! 



A CHANGE OF BASE. 89 

Tarbox. 
Wal, as fur the camp, I d' know as I did more 
nor cook my vittals, — and poor enough they was, 
— if it had n't a been for the sutler's pies, I should 
ha' been a'most starved. And when I was n't 
eatin' them, I was whittlin', or playin' checkers or 
dominos with the fellers, — leastways when we 
was thru' with that air darned drillin'. 

Prim. 
But the battles ? — the deeds of arms ? 

Tarrox. 
Can't tell ye nothin' about them. I got took 
down with the rheumatiz, and left, — jest as the 
fightin' was goin' to begin. I had the luck on 't, 
I tell yoii ! 

Flora {starting tip). 

What ! were you not disappointed to be denied 
the opportunity to fight for your country, after you 
had volunteered in her defence t 

Tarbox. 
O bless you, marm, I did n't volunteer, — I was 
drafted. I wish to blazes now, I had a-volun- 
teered, and got the baounty ! 

Flora. 
All my illusions dispelled ! 

Tarbox. 
Tell ye all abaout it. The all-firedest mean biz- 



90 A CHANGE OF BASE. 

ness aoyt. The clay they drafted, I was down to 
the ingine-house, along with Elnathan P. Sawyer, 
and a lot more Independent Odd-Fellows. Elna- 
than, sez he, " Tarbox, I bet you '11 git stuck." He 
had n't more 'n got the words out of his maouth, 
when Ouincy Titcomb, that stutters, came runnin' 
up. " Hearii the news ? the list 's ao?it ! " " Who 
be they } " sez all hands, Ouincy could n't git aout 
the fust word. " WJio be they ? " roars the crowd. 
Quincy made the orfiillest faces, and Royal Mar- 
ble, he took him by the collar as if he 'd shake it 
out of him. " Tell us who they be," sez he. Quin- 
cy was corked as tight as a ginger-beer bottle, but 
he pinted his finger straight at ine. Gosh ! how 
they all screeched and screamed (except me). 
" Naow," sez I, " Gen'lemen feller-citizens, look 
a-here, I 've got conscientious, Constitootional 
scruples (a larf), and a very aged aunt (roars), 
besides fits (yells). I don't back aout from May 
trainins, nor Cornwallises, nor I ain't afraid to 
swab aout our cannon arter she 's ben tetched off, 
— but, as to flyin' in the face of Providence, loaded 
with ball-catridge, Congress hain't no title to send 
for me. There 's a higher law agin it. 'T ain't 
right ! " No use ! I could n't squirm aout, no 
way, nor shape, and was baound to go. So I 
went, — and that 's how 't was. 

[ Takes out a pipe and fills it. 

Prim. 
How interesting ! 



A CHANGE OF BASE. 9 1 

Flora. 
How intolerable ! 

Prim. 

Well, Mr. Tarbox, it 's a mercy you escaped 
with your life. / consider that rheumatism a dis- 
pensation of Providence ! 

Flora [seeing Tarbox light his pipe). 

Oh, that is too much ! Sir, — Mr. Tarbox! I 
cannot possibly have you smoke pipes here. The 
smell of tobacco makes me very ill ! 

Tarbox. 
Oh bother ! 'T ain't no kinder use for you to cut 
up rough about my pipe. You must git wonted 
to it, and the sooner the better. 

Flora. 
Sir, if you have no respect for a lady, the sooner 
you leave this house the better ! 

Tarbox. 
Wal, wal, don't git so riled. I 'd just as lives go 
out and smoke a spell, to please ye, if ye 're so 
^ tarnation squeamish. 

Prim [rising). 

This way, sir, — allow me, — I 'm sorry Miss 
Fayaway is so particular, — /adore tobacco ! 

\Exe7int Prim and Tarbox. 

Flora [alone). 
O ! unhappy girl that I am ! My whole life 
sacrificed by one silly and imprudent step ! I 



92 A CHANGE OF BASE. 

expected some one just like the Heir of Redclyffe, 
and I find myself bound by the most solemn 
promises to this odious Down-East farmer ! And 
those hateful letters .... copied out of that hate- 
ful book! {Flings book d(nvn.) What humiliation! I 
shall die of it, — I hope I may ! How could I 
ever have written to him! How unladylike, — 
how ridiculous my conduct has been ! I have been 
living for months in a cloud, — a mist of illusion, 
— and now it has cleared away, and I see my 
miserable folly in its true light ! Ah ! if I had 
had a mother, — a father, — any one to advise me, 
this never could have happened. But I am all 

alone ! {Cries.) 

Servant brings in a letter. 

A letter from my cousin Fred. O ! what will 
he say when he hears of this 1 Dear Fred, how 
fond he always was of me ! And he did give up all 
for the war ; — he is really a hero .... and a 
gentleman, too ! Strange I never thought of Fred 
before. But the truth is, when he's your cousin, 
and you Ve known him all your life, you dont 
think of Fred. {Reads.) " Dearest cousin. You 
will see me very soon after receiving this. We 
had rather sharp work with the Rebels, the other 
day, and I was slightly wounded, but it is noth- 
ing of consequence, so don't be frightened. Our 
Colonel insists on my having ten days' furlough, 
however. I thought you might see it in the pa- 
pers, so I write myself to let you know I am all 
right, and coming. Yours ever, Frederick Dash- 
wood." 



A CHANGE OF BASE. 93 

Wounded ! and I never knew it ! And he does 
n't tell me how! O! where is the paper! {Finds 

nezvspaper and reads.) 

" Attack of the Rebels on our troops. Gallant 
conduct of Capt. Dash wood of the Mass. 144th. 
The Rebels attacked one of our redoubts last 
Tuesday, but were repulsed with great loss. Capt. 
Dashwood, of the Mass. 144th, distinguished him- 
self by one of the most heroic actions of the war. 
The flag, which floated over the redoubt, suddenly 
fell to the ground outside, its staff cut by a ball. 
A shout of triumph rose from the Rebel ranks as 
the banner disappeared, for they thought it to be 
the signal of submission. The next moment, Capt. 
Dashwood leaped from the parapet, and, amid a 
perfect storm of shot and shell, walked deliberately 
the whole length of the fort, picked up the flag, 
mounted the bastion, and the Stars and Stripes 
again floated proudly on the breeze ! Capt. Dash- 
wood escaped by a miracle with only a slight 
wound in the arm. Hi^ country may well be 
proud of such a gallant son ! " 

How brave ! how noble ! — and I never appre- 
ciated him ! This story of his devotion has been 
read to-day through the length and breadth of the 
land, — and every voice is praising him, — every 
voice but mine ! Every woman in the country 
knows he is a hero .... and / am the last to 
find it out ! And now he is coming back, — and 
I see it all, — too late, — too late ! 

\^Biirsts into tears, and exit. 



94 A CHANGE OF BASE. 



SCENE II. 

Enter Captam Dashwood, in ttJiifon?!^ with his left arm 

in a sling. 

Capt. Dashwood. 
Here I am back again in the old house ! A 
week of home is n't bad after a year of campaign- 
ing. Rather a cool welcome old Prim gave me 
just now. She seemed so taken up with that sol- 
dier, she scarcely looked at me. I wonder whether 
Flora will be glad to see me ! Ah ! If she only 
knew how often the hope of seeing her again has 
cheered me up, down there in Virginia ! 

SONG. 

Neapolitan Air, — " Sul mare lucida." — Santa Lucia. 

Far, far from home, love. 

By the dark river, 
Where flows Potomac 

Silently ever, — 
In the deep midnight. 
By the camp fireh'ght, 
Ah ! Cousin Flora ! I 'm thinking of you ! 

When o'er the battle-field 

Night-shadows close, love. 
And pale stars are watching 

The soldier's repose, love, 
When for his comfort come 
Sweet dreams of friends and home, 
Then, dearest Flora. I 'm dreaming of you ! 

When to your home, love, 
Come from afar, 



A CHANGE OF BASE. 95 

Borne on the southwind, 

The echoes of war, 
Does memory then portray 
Him who 's so far away ? 
Then, dearest Flora, doyo?^ think of me ? 

Enfer Flora. 
Well, Cousin Flora, here I am ! 

Flora. 

O Fred ! — dear Fred, — how thankful I am 
you are safe ! but your arm . . . . O ! how grieved 
I am ! 

Capt. Dashwood. 

Oh, it is nothing, — nothing at all ! Did you 
expect me ? You got my letter ? 

Flora. 

Yes, just now .... I have only this instant 
read the account in the paper of your noble con- 
duct ! O Fred! how bravely, — how gloriously 
you behaved ! 

Capt. Dashwood. 

Nonsense ! I only did my duty. Every soldier 
would have done the same. But I 'm glad j/ou 
think well of me, darling cousin. My last thought, 
Flora, before going into action, — my last thought 
was of you ! 

Flora {muck moved). 

Dear Fred ! . . . . 



96 A CHANGE OF BASE. 

Capt. Dashwood. 

Why, Flora, I hardly thought you cared so 
much for me 

Flora. 
Oh, even when I see you safe before me now, I 
tremble when I remember the frightful risk you ran, 
and think how soon you must go back ! 

Capt. Dashwood. 

Well, Flora, we must all risk something for the 

dear old flag, and I 'm sure the women do as much 

as the men. If we live, we shall have a country 

worth living for, — and if we die, we shall not die 

in vain But come, come, you must n't cry, 

now I 've come back. Tell me about yourself. 
How is my darling cousin ^ Not married yet, eh ? 

Flora. 
No, no, — not yet. 

Capt. Dashwood. 

By the way, who was that queer-looking fellow 
I met just now on your door-step ? Old Prim 
seemed to be showing him out, and, — would you 
believe it, she was actually lighting his pipe for 
him ! ! She always made fuss enough when I 
smoked a cigar ! Old Prim has n't picked up an 
admirer, has she ? 

Flora. 

I don't know, — I wish she had ! 



A CHANGE OF BASE. Q/ 

Capt. Dashwood. 
But who is the fellow ? 

Flora. 
His name is Tarbox, — he was in a Maine regi- 
ment, — never mind about him now. 

Capt. Dashwood. 
Well, I don't think old Prim ought to inflict her 
seedy friends on you. A common-looking fellow ! 

— he might walk off with something, — ladies 
can't be .too careful ! But come, put on your 

things, Flora, and let us take a walk before sunset. 

[Exit Flora. 
And now I mean to try my fate. I Ve loved 
my cousin all my life, and she received me so well 

— she showed so much emotion, — I almost think 
she cares for me after all ! By Jove, how happy I 
feel! {Drums heard outside.) Hollo ! there 's a regi- 
ment passmg ! [Throivs up the windozv, and cheers loudly.) 

How the drum-beat carries me back ! By Jove ! 
what an exciting life it is, when you are in for it ! 
If it were not for Flora, I should feel impatient 
now. The sound of that drum makes me long to 
be off again ! 

SONG. 

Air, — " Rataplan," in La Fille du Regiment. Drum accompaniment. 

Now arm, boys, arm. 

Hear the bugle's alarm 
With the trumpet's war-note blend ! 

They call us to fight 

For our flag, and the right, — 
And may Heaven the right defend ! 

5 G 



gS A CHANGE OF BASE. 

Hear the roll of the drum, — 

Be ready, — they come, — 
And the bullets pour in like rain. 

But firm as a rock, 

Our men bear the shock, 
And the enemy's valour is vain. 

Then hurrah, boys, hurrah, 

For each silvery star 
That shines in the dark blue field ! 

By land or by sea. 

For the flag of the free, 
We can die, — but we never can yield ! 

Double-quick ! Forward march 1 

Charge bayonets I C/iarge / 
See the gleam of the glittering steel ! 

As we charge with the cry, 

" We will conquer or die ! " 
The Rebel ranks quiver and reel! 

To the roll of the drum. 

Like a whirlwind we come, — 
And we charge them again, and again, — • 

And we scatter them fast, 

As the northern blast 
Scatters leaves on the autumn plain. 

Then hurrah, boys, hurrah, 

For each silvery star 
That shines in the dark blue field ! 

By land or by sea. 

For the flag of the free 
We can die, — but we never can yield 1 

Etiter Tarbox. 

Why, here 's that confounded Yankee again. I 
wonder what busmess he has here ! 



A CHANGE OF BASE. 99 

Tarbox. 

Good day, sir. In the army, I see. (Capt. bows 
stiffly.) Wovvnded, eh t TickUsh kinder trade, ain't 
it } Friend o' the family, I presume t 

Capt. Dashwood. 
I am, sir. 

Tarbox. 

Then I s'pose ye know I 'm about to become 
one on ye 1 

Capt. Dashwood {aside). 

Then he is engaged to old Prim. {Aloud.) Yes, 

so I understood. 

Tarbox. 

She 's pooty, certainly, — don't ye think so t 

Capt. Dashwood {aside). 

Pretty ! Old Prim ! ! Good Heavens ! ! ! {a:. •) 
Beauty is a matter of taste, Tarbox. 

Tarbox. 

Still, come to think on 't, I hardly think she 'd 
do for me. I d' know as she would, and I d' know 
as she would. I 've a good mind to try a Change 
of Base, as they say in the army, and make up to 
the other one. 

Capt. Dashwood {aside). 

The other one f Flora ? What impertinence ! 
{Aloud.) Sir, I beg you not to allude to my cou.sin 
in that manner. 



lOO A CHANGE OF BASE. 



Tarbox. 



! I did n't know you was related. Wal, sir, 
she 's a sensible woman, though she is your cousin. 

Capt. Dashwood. 

1 have no right to interfere with Miss Prim's 
friends, sir, but I must request that you abstain 
from annoying Miss Fayaway in any manner, — 
or I shall be obliged to give you a lesson ! 

Tareox. 

Whew ! You 're pretty cocky, ain't ye ? Don't 
see any need of gittin' yer dander up that way. 

Capt. Dashwood. 

Come, sir, enough of this, or I shall lose my 
patience ! 

Tarbox. 

S'pose, 'cos you 've got them shoulder-straps, and 
call yerself a Lootenant or a Capting, you think 
ye 're some pun'kins, don't ye ? 

Capt. Dashwood {collaring Jiim). 

What do you mean, you miserable fool } (Con- 
found my arm.) 

Tarbox. 

Mean } I mean I think you 're a tarnation 
jackanapes ! and now I 'm out o' the army, I '11 
tell ye so, Capting or no Capting. 



A CHANGE OF BASE. lOI 

Capt. Dashwood {shaking him). 

Confound you ! Hold your tongue ! Leave 
the house I and be thankful I have a wounded 
arm, or I would n't let you off so easily. {Pushes 

him out.) 

Tarbox {co77iiiig back). 

And as to that Miss Flory .... 

Capt. Dashwood {furious). 
Leave the house, I say ! {Pushes him out again.) 

Tarbox {reappearing). 
I 've as much right in the house as you, and a 
darned sight more, — and — 

Capt. Dashwood. 
Begone! not another word! {Thrusts him out 
and slams the door.) I shall tell Flora she really must 
insist on Miss Prim's receiving that man's visits 
somewhere else ! [Looks at clock.) Flora must be 
ready by this time, I should think ! She has been 
three quarters of an hour putting on her hat. 

\Exit. 
Re-enter Tarbox by other door. 

Tarbox. 
I jest went into the back parlour, and waited till 
I heerd him go out. Never see sech a peppery 
chap in my born days ! Hope he won't come 
back I Never could git along with sech folks. 
'Fraid I 'm in a fix. And this Miss Flory too, — 
she 's a darned sight too fine a lady for me. Don't 



102 A CHANGE OF BASE. 

know nothin' about farmin', and says tobaccer 
makes her sick ! I 'd ruther have the other 
woman, by a long chalk. Here she comes now, — 
guess I '11 pump her some about Miss Flory. 

Enter Miss Prim. 

Marm, I want to hev a talk with you. 

Prim. 
Very happy, I 'm sure, Mr. Tarbox. 

Tarbox. 
You see, Miss Prim, I begin to think I was 
barking up the wrong tree in regard to Miss Flory. 
In fact I ought n't 'er hev got into the scrape at 
all, — only Letter No. 6 in my book was what 
they called a " Formal Declaration," — and of 
course I had to take 'em as they come, — and so I 
jest got myself hooked ! But she 's too stuck- 
up for my purpose, with her airs and graces, and 
fallals, — I ain't used to sech. 

Prim. 
You are a man of sense, I see, Mr. Tarbox. 

Tarbox. 
How she 'd look sweepin' raound our farm-house 
in one o' them long trailin' gowns ! Guess 't would 
save brooms. And they must cost a heap, too. 
S'pose, now, sech a gown as that she had on would 
come as high as ten or eleven dollars 1 

Prim. 
Ten or eleven ! My dear sir ! in these times, it 



A CHANGE OF BASE. IO3 

did n't cost a cent less than a hundred ! And 
that 's nothing to some of her dresses. Why, I '11 
just show you one of her bills. 

yChies him a bill a yard long. 

Tarbox. 

I snum ! Jerewsalem ! What 's this } {Reads.) 

" A Blackamoor, four Jiundred dollars " ; that won't 

do, — that's goin' agin the Amendment of the 

Constitution. 

Prim. 

No, no, dear Mr. Tarbox, not " Blackamoor," — 
a black moire. It 's a very expensive kind of silk. 

Tarbox. 

I bet. Why, you could stump the State, and run 
for Congress, on four hundred dollars. [Reads) "A 
blue illusion, and trimmings, — two dollars and 
fifty cents." Come, that 's more reasonable. • 

Prim. 

No, no, not two dollars and fifty cents, — two 
htmdred and fifty dollars. (And some of her rose- 
coloured illusions will cost her more than that !) 

Tarbox. 

Miss Flory must have a pretty <:^7/siderable pile, 
hain't she } 

Prim. 

Yes, but her money is settled on herself, and 
she spends it all on her clothes ! 



104 A CHANGE OF BASE. 

Tarbox. 
Look here, Miss Prim, do your bills foot up like 

Flory's ? 

Prim. 

Oh ! no, sir. / consider simplicity the truest 

taste ! 

Tarbox {aside). 

Guess I '11 decide on the Change of Base. {Aloud.) 
Now tell me truly, — is she the kind o' gal that 
can turn her hand to anything, and help raound 
a farm 1 

Prim. 

O Mr. Tarbox ! she never did anything useful 

in all her life ! / keep the house, — and take all 

the care, and {Diffidently) I was brought up on a 

farm. 

Tarbox. 

Then you 're the gal for me ! — if you '11 have 
me, — will yer } — Say } 

Prim {bridling). 

Oh ! indeed, that requires some consideration, 
Mr. Tarbox! 

Tarbox. 

Wal, yer need n't if yer don't want to. It don't 
make no odds to me. There 's Melindy Jones, 
down to Skowhegan, — she '11 have me, I reckon. 

Prim {alarmed). 

Oh ! I did n't intend, — I only meant, — are you 
in, — ahem, easy circumstances. Mr. Tarbox } 



A CHANGE OF BASE. IO5 

Tarbox. 
Fust-rate. I 've got a great little farm down 
there. 'T ain't like my neighbour, who can't raise 
nothin' on his farm but a mortgage ! — And I 've 
got kyows, pigs, chickens, a yoke of oxen, and a 
one-hoss chay, — and a pung. Tell ye, we could 
git along pretty slick. 

Prim. 

! Mr. Tarbox, — you are so persuasive, — 
there 's no resisting you ! 

Tarbox. 
All right then, — it 's a bargain. I '11 resk it, if 
you will, — 

Prim {sentimentally). 

1 will, Hezekiah ! 

Tarbox. 
Guess I shall have a pretty hard job to make 
it right with Miss Flory, — but after what you 
told me, I wouldn't have her, — no, not if you'd 
give me jive hundred dollars ! Now I 'm going 
out, to see the Cupalo of the State House. 

Prim. 
What, going t Then your Tabitha will accom- 
pany you ! [Exeunt Prim and Tarbox. 

Enter Flora in walking-dress. 

I must and will be free ! I wonder whether he 
would release me, if I offer him half my fortune ! 

5* 



I06 A CHANGE OF BASE. 

I might have been the happiest girl in the world, 
but for my own miserable folly ! Fred loves me, 
— he has entreated me to be his wife, — and I 
could n't say yes ! — but I did nt say no ! 

Re-enter Tarbox, Vri^]. follmuing. 

Tarbox. 
My pipe ! I must ha' left it here ! (6'^^'^ Flora.) 
Hullo, here she is now. [To Prim.) You clear out, 
and I '11 fix her. 

^Exit Prim, Jcissini:^ her hand to him. 

Miss Flory ! I 've got suthin to say to you. I 'm 
afraid you '11 feel kinder disappinted at first. 
{Aside.) Gosh ! I hope she won't faint, — I '11 hev 
a glass o' water all ready to dash in her face. 

[Pours out so?ne zuater, and sits holding tumbler. Aloud.) Fact 

is. Miss Flory, I 'm most afraid it won't do for us 
to hitch our horses together. 

Flora. 
Horses 1 what horses, Mr. Tarbox ? 

Tarbox. 
You see, Miss Flory, I was buyin' a pig .... 

Flora. 
I told you already, that I don't understand pigs, 
sir ! 

Tarbox [distinctly). 
I mean, that I was buyin' a pig in a poke, when 
I agreed to marry you without hevin' seen you. 
And, to tell ye the truth, now I Jicv seen ye, you 
ain't a mite like the kind o' gal we raise down to 
Skowhegan. 



A CHANGE OF BASE. lO/ 

Flora. 
Indeed ! 

Tarbox. 

You 're altogether too highfalutin' to suit us down 
there, — and, — and, — I kind o' hate to tell ye, 'cos 
I know you 've been lotting on it, — but really and 
truly now, I guess we had better be off our bar- 
gain. D' yer feel faint ? {Throws 7vater at her.) 

Flora. 
D07lt ! don't ! ! DON'T ! ! I [Shrieks.) 

Tarbox. 
HigJistericks ! by jing I Don't take on so, Miss 
Flory. It 's a disappintment, I know, — but 
you '11 git over it in time. There 1 now she 's 
beginnin' to larf, — that 's alters the way in high- 
stericks ! 

Flora [aside). 

What an escape ! I certainly never thought he 
would refuse me ! [Aloud.) Mr. Tarbox, I entirely 
agree with you, as to the expediency of " being 
off our bargain," and I promise you I won't die 
of a broken heart. 

Tarbox. 

Then you won't feel bad when I tell you, I 
cal'ate to git married to yer friend there, instead "*. 

Flora. 
Do you really .-^ Well, I am delighted. I think 
Miss Prim exactly suited to you. But, Mr. T^dx- 



I08 A CHANGE OF BASE. 



box, one thing I must insist upon, — you must 
return every one of my letters. 

Tarbox. 
Can't do it. 

Flora 

Can't do it ? Then, sir, you must be lost to 
every sentiment of honour, and I shall request my 
cousin. Captain Dashwood, to ... . 

Tarbox. 

Lord bless yer, yer don't suppose I kept all that 
rubbish, do yer ? Why, I read 'em about half- 
way through mostly, and then I lighted my pipe 
with 'em ! 

Flora. 

A warning to girls ! 



Enter Capt. Dashwood front, and Prim back. Tarbox goei 

towards Prim. 

Flora {aside to Capt. Dashwood). 

• Dear Fred, it shall be as you wish. [Gives him her 
hand. Aiond.) Have you heard the news 1 Mr. 
Tarbox is going to marry Miss Prim. 

Capt. Dashwood. 
Oh, I knew that already. 

Tarbox [aside to Prim). 
And she 's goin' to take up with him, ain't she .-* 

{Points with his thumb at Capt. Dashwood.) 



A CHANGE OF BASE. lOQ 

Prim [aside to Tarrox). 

She always luas a flirt, Hezekiah, — but we 
would n't change, would we ? 

Cai't. Dash wood. 

And now, dearest Flora, if Miss Prim leaves 
yon, you can't Hve alone ; and you know my 
furlough only lasts a week, and writing letters is 
very unsatisfactory 

Flora. 

Yes ! I '11 never write another letter as long 
as I live ! 

Capt. Uashwood. 

It is n't like seeing one another face to face, is 

it? 

Flora. 

No ! indeed it is not I 

Capt. Dashwood. 

Then the only thing to do, is for us to be 
married immediately, and I can take you back 
with me to Fortress Monroe 

Tarp.ox \to Prim). 

And I '11 take you back to the State of Maine, 
where I '11 turn my baggonet into a prewning- 
hook, pretty darned quick. {To the midience.) And 
if any on ye ever come within a mile of Skow- 
hegan, think of yer friend Tarbox, — and stop ! 



no A CHANGE OF BASE. 

SONG. 

Air, — " A little dance to-night." 

Capt. Dashwood, 

We wish you a pleasant journey back 

To that delightful town, 
And think you 're better mowing hay, 

Than mowing Rebels down. 
Our country now needs all her sons, — 

She '11 miss you, it is true, 
But she has seven hundred thousand left, 
And I think we '11 pull her through ! 
Then fare you well, Mr. Tarbox, Mr. Tarbox, Mr. Tarbox, 
And fare you well, Mrs. Tarbox, — we Change our Base to- 
morrow ! 

{To FLORA;) 

A soldier's time is short, my love, 

Forgive this hasty wooing, — 
But though the knot be quickly tied, 

You '11 find there 's no undoinor ! 
And if our country need her sons, 
She needs her daughters too. — 
Together we 're thirty-five millions strong, — 
And I think we '11 see her through ! 
Then fare you well, Mr. Tarbox, Mr. Tarbox, Mr. Tarbox, 
And fare you well, Mrs. Tarbox, — we Change our Base to- 
morrow ! 



DOCTOR MONDSCHEIN; 



ok. 



THE VIOLENT REMEDY. 



charactp:rs. 



Mr. Benjamin Backbay. 

Julia Backbay. 

Mrs. Post. 

Dr. Moxdschein. 



DOCTOR MONDSCHEIN. 



SCENE I. 

Mr. Backbay's House. — A Table with Breakfast. 
Mr. P)ACKRAy [alone). 

Half past nine o'clock in the morning, — and 
no Mrs. Backbay I A hard case, indeed, that I 
should always breakfast alone ! I did n't foresee 
that, when I married Julia Spinner into a new 
house with all the modern improvements. Rail- 
roads, contracts, petroleum, gold mines, — all get 
up, — but there 's no getting Julia up ! This comes 
of the " marriage of a prominent and influential 
citizen, well known in financial circles, with a 
young and lovely ornament of our most distin- 
guished and fashionable /ia?(t tony I 'm the citi- 
zen, — Julia 's the ornament. I go to bed, — she 
goes to balls. Dancing is her passion, — my 
aversion ; and when Julia turns out, I turn in, 
both in white. Ah ! here she comes, dead beat 
after the Fagends' great blow-out. 

Enter Mrs. Backbay [yaivning). 
Good morning, Mrs. Backbay. 



Il6 DOCTOR MONDSCHEIN. 

Mrs. Backbay. 
What ! — off already ? 

Mr. Backbay. 

Already indeed ! Why, I 've shaved by gas, 
been to the end of Long Wharf, — bought the 
dinner, ate my breakfast, and read the papers. 

Mrs. Backbay. 

What a horrid Goth ! SiicJi a lovely ball, Mr. 
Backbay ! I danced every dance, till the music fell 
asleep, — so provokingly, — just as I was giving 
Herbert Thompson a final turn. Dear Mr. Back- 
bay, if you would only learn to dance, — you 
dear old duck ! Why, Mr. Jiganti 's old enough 
to be your father, and dances in the most heav- 
enly way, — with one foot in the grave ! 

Mr. Backbay. 
Pshaw ! you won't catch me putting my foot in it. 

Mrs. Backbay [slugs). 

Air — "Were I a bird, love." 

Had I my way, love, 

Soon would I teacli it thee ! 
State Street, and business, all 

Given up should be. 
Never mind your stocks and shares, — 
Never mind your bulls and bears, — 
Dance, — and you '11 see your cares 
Waltzing away ! 



DOCTOR MONDSCHEIN. II7 

I, too, have trials, love, 

Housekeeping 's such a tease ! 

Furnace cracks the furniture, 
Water-pipes will freeze. 

But let a waltz begin, 

Round, round I gaily spin, 

Then 1 don't care a pin. 
No, — no, not I ! 

Mr. Backbay {hatiding invitation cards). 

Here 's more of their tomfoolery laid out for 
two weeks ahead ! 

Mrs. Backbay. 

How nice ! " Mrs. A. J. Tinker requests the 
pleasure," — " Mrs. T. Pike Robinson requests the 
pleasure," — " Mrs. Collingwood Dabchick re- 
quests," — "Mrs. Orville Rich requests," — O, with 
a note from my dearest Rosalba ! {Reads.) '' Dear- 
est Julia, I have worried mamma, and plagued 
papa, into having the German here Thursday 
week. Is n't it sweet f And, my dear, my things 
are through the Custom-House, and I shall have 
my new Roget silk, made and trimmed precisely 
like the Empress's. Is lit it sweet } Of course 
we depend on you. You know you caii i resist 
the German. So, my dear, come, and talk it over 
with, yours a jamais, Rosie Rich. P. S. — Fred 
implored me to wait a month for his moustache ; 
but I could n't, would n't, should n't ! " 

Mr. Backbay. 
(Aside) Who the devil's the German? {Aloud.) 
My dear, Thursday week 's your aunt's. 



I 1 8 DOCTOR MONDSCHEIN. 

Mrs. Backbay. 
My aunt's ? 

Mr. Backbay. 

Tea, at Aunt Post's, — at Newton Corner. 

Mrs. Backbay. 
I '11 put it off, — I '11 say the horses are lame ! 

Mr. Backbay. 

Then the Needlewoman's Friend will get her 
money. 

Mrs. Backbay. 

I '11 work her an Afghan. 

Mr. Backbay. 
More likely you '11 catch a Tartar ! 

Mrs. Backbay. 

I would n't miss tJiat German^ — no, not for the 
world ! 

Mr. Backbay. 
The German again ! — I don't like it ! 

Mrs. Backbay. 

O Mr. Backbay ! your heart is dead to the 
delight of dancing. The waltz-music so delicious- 
ly blends joy and sadness, that the very soul 
seems to sway, and float away into Elysium I 
Music, flowers, perfumes, toilets, Champagne, 
and the German^ — make heaven on earth ! 



DOCTOR MONDSCHEIN. I 1 9 

Mr. Backbay. 

{Aside.) Some d — d Count 's round. {Aloud.) I 
wish, Mrs. Backbay, you did n't run this thing 
quite so much into the ground. It 's all very well 
for a girl to polk a few thousand miles when she 
gets out of school, but in viy humble opinion, 
ma'am, a full-grown female, with an adult hus- 
band, and an A i establishment, had better be 
minding her kitchen and her nursery. There 's 
buttons enough, ma'am, off my shirts, to keep you 
busy till decent folks' bedtime, every night in 
the. week ! 

Mrs. Backbay. 

A pretty programme, sir, for a lady ! You 
should have married in your own sphere ! 

Mr. Backbay. 

O, bosh ! 

Mrs. Backbay. 

You have no heart, — and no taste ! 

Mr. Backbay. 
Or I should n't have chosen you. 

Mrs. Backbay. 

Thank you, sir ; I might have married Lieuten- 
ant Ambergris — 

Mr. Backbay. 
And lived on his buttons. 



120 DOCTOR MONDSCHEIN. 

Mrs. Backray. 

Thank heaven, I have one escape from your 

barbarities ! and I only beg, that, while I do not 

interfere with your pursuits, j/07i will leave me to 

follow 7nvie. 

Mr. Backbay. 

Follow t/ie Gcnnaii, I suppose. 

Mrs. Backbay. 
Yes, sir, the German, if I please. 

Mr. Backbay. 
To the Devil, ma'am } 

Mrs. Backbay. 
To the Hartz Mountains, sir ! 

Mr. Backbay. 

The Heart's wJiat ? That I call cool ! Mrs. 
I^ackbay, this thing must stop, — it iniLst stop, I 
say, — or there '11 be mischief ! 

Mrs. Backbay. 
What thing 1 

Mr. Backbay. 

This — this — this German ! 

Mrs. Backbay. 
Never ! 

Mr. Backbay. 

Noiv ! Face your infatuation like a man. — 
Struggle with it, — wrestle with it, — break it 
down, — bottle it up, — cast it away ! 



DOCTOR MONDSCHEIN. 12 I 

Mrs. Backbay. 

Abandon the German ? Never ! I adore the 
German, — live for the German, — dream of the 
German ! 

Mr. Eackbay. 

Jidia ! Madam ! Such sentiments disgrace 
you ! I am amazed at your assurance in uttering 
them to me. My eyes are opened, and my hair 
stands on end ! I shall say no more at present, 
as it is time for me to attend a meeting, but leave 
you to reflect on the awful consequences of per- 
sistence in this wickedness, {Aside.) I must talk 
over this delicate matter with Aunt Post, confi- 
dentially, through an ear-trumpet. [Exit. 

Mrs. 'Backbay {a/one). 

So violent ! so unreasonable ! so ridiculous ! 
A scene about my harmless diversion ! — my' only 
relief from the odious, stupid, tedious life I live ! 
I'm quite upset by it, — my head aches, — my 
heart beats, — my eyes are red ! I shall look 
like a perfect fright leading a German with red 
eyes ! — I '11 send for that Homoeopathic Physi- 
cian who has done such wonders with Florence 
P'agend. You take sweet little pills, in dear little 
bottles, and you 're all right, Florence says, and 
nothing the matter with you ! I '11 send for him 
this minute ! [Exit. 



122 DOCTOR MONDSCHEIN. 



SCENE II 



Mrs. Post 's House. — Mrs. Fast seated., knittmg. — 
Enter Mr. Backbay. 

Mrs. Post {without lookijtg). 

Peter, I should say, kill both, Peter Lor' 

Mr. Backbay, pray excuse me ; I thought it was 
Peter, about the pigs. I did n't hear you ring, 
though I can hear the Orthodox bell, when the 
wind 's easterly, as it most always is. How is 
my darling Julia } — gay as ever } 

Mr. Backbay. 
In the very vortex, ma'am, of dissipation. 

Mrs. Post. 
I 'm so glad, Benjamin, to have her expensive 
education come into play. To think that the 
little girl who fell into the duck-pond should be 
such an ornament to society as dear Julia is, — 
and such a fine dresser too. Did the pea-soup 
ever come out of her purple silk } 

Mr. Backbay. 
I have come to consult you on a very delicate 

business — 

Mrs. Post. 

I should try benzine. 

Mr. Backbay. 
— and one in which I feel the greatest per- 
plexity how to act. 



DOCTOR MONDSCHEIN. 123 

Mrs. Post. 
Without caution, the spot may spread, and 
some object to the smell, but — 

Mr. Backbay. 

— I 'm very wretched — 

Mrs. Post. 
Try benzine ! 

Mr. Backbay. 

— I 'm quite overpowered — 

Mrs. Post. 
Rub in a little musk, or ottar of rose, and you 
won't perceive it, — you won't perceive it. 

Mr. Backbay. 

— I wish to act with vigour — 

Mrs. Post. 
Put in a new breadth ! 

Mr. Backbay. 

— but without precipitation — 

Mrs. Post. 
Perhaps a back breadth could be managed. 

Mr. Backbay. 

— and I '11 try to hide my indignation — 

Mrs. Post. 
So you could ! Hide it under a broad velvet 
trimming. 



124 DOCTOR MONDSCHEIN. 

Mr. Backbay. 
— though gorea to desperation ! 

Mrs. Post. 

Gored f Then there's nothing but benzine, for 
goring cuts up your stuff awfully, and leaves you 
no resource against such accidents as happen in 
the best society. 

Mr. Backbay {very loud). 
It 's worse than pea-soup, Aunt Post ! 

Mrs. Post. 

Not fish-ball } I once had one in my lap 
through a whole dinner ! 

Mr. Backbay. 

I have been very careless, and Julia sadly im- 
prudent, and great distress to both may be the 
result. 

Mrs. Post. 

Why, Benjamin, how you frighten me ! What 
has happened .'' 

Mr. Backbay. 

You know Julia's fondness for admiration, — 
I fear it may have carried her too far. 

Mrs. Post. 

Now, if it 's the old story about Captain Beverly 
Bean, you may feel quite easy, T)enjamin. 



DOCTOR MONDSCHEIN. I25 

Mr. Backbay. 

No, it 's not Beverly Bean. // 's a German. 
Julia is madly in love with a German. Raves 
about him ! Dreams of him ! Tells me so to 
my face. 

Mrs. Post. 

My niece, Julia Spinner that was, in love with 
a German } I '11 not believe it, brought up as 
Julia 's been, — never ! — never ! — never ! 

Mr. Backbay. 

It 's time she was brought up with a round 
turn. See her, and hear it for yourself I tell 
you, she 's desperate, — she 's not herself ! Come 
to her, dear madam. Reason with her. One ef- 
fort, before I cast her off forever, and join Brig- 
ham Young. 

Mrs. Post. 

If Julia goes off with a German, every cent of 
mine goes to the Sailors' Snug Harbor ! 

Mr. Backbay. 

Come, before my affections are forever alienated, 
— and my passage paid to Utah ! 

Mrs. Post. 
What do you think of Tufts College \ 

Mr. Backbay. 
Persuade her to renounce this German — 



126 DOCTOR MONDSCHEIN. 

Mrs. Post. 
A needy, though meritorious institution — 

Mr. Backbay. 

Or I give her up ! I won't play second fiddle to 
a German ! Hang the fellow ! 

Mrs. Post. 

Benjamin, I'll come in, — I'll come in, and 
ascertain from Julia herself what all this means. 
I am slow, I confess, to prejudge her conduct ; 
but if your suspicions are founded, and my appeal 
prove vain, I tJiiiik it will be the Sailors, — on con- 
dition, however, that they give up tobacco ! 

Mr. Backhay. 

I trust you will be able to mend matters. If 
not, I wash my hands of her, and disappear at 
once. I could n't show my face on 'Change, or 
walk round the Common. I should be the talk 
of all the Insurance Offices and Sewing-Circles, 
the victim of a million carping, gibing lies, and 
at the mercy of every idle tongue and pen in the 
community ! 

Mrs. Post. 

Have you seen this object of your fears and sus- 
picions, Mr. Backbay t 

Mr. Backbay. 
Should n't know him from an organ-grinder. 



DOCTOR MONDSCHKIN. 12/ 

Mrs. Post. 
Has Julia received him at the house, Benjamin? 

Mr. BACKB.A.Y. 

Not she ! There 'd be murder ! Ma'am, murder! 

Mrs. Post. 

Benjamin, be cahn, and I shall bear up as I can 

against the evidences of my niece's misconduct. 

Have you intercepted their correspondence, noticed 

flowers about, or heard singing under the windows 

at night 1 

Mr. Backray. 

I can't say I have, — that is, distinctly, — that 
I can now recall. 

Mrs. Post [sarcastically). 

I Jiavc heard of husbands supposed to devote 
more attention to business and billiards than to 
their domestic concerns, and who are so occupied 
with stocks, whist, horses, and male dinner-parties, 
that their wives are left to their own meditations. 

Mr. Back hay. 

Yes, ma'am, and / have heard of ladies who, 
instead of staying at home, to run the machine, 
are so full of fashions and folly and flummery, of 
shopping and dressing, and dancing .... 

Mrs. Post. 

Pray don't be at the pains of going through the 
list, sir. I have heard Jinndreds of men talk. 



128 DOCTOR MONDSCHEIN. 

himdreds oi times, about women, and they all 
talked — like fools ! 

Mr. Backbay. 

Upon my word, ma'am, they knew whom they 

were talking to ! 

Mrs. Post. 

A gallant speech, Mr. Backbay ! Now I dare 
say the German gentleman's manners, and opin- 
ions about ladies, are quite the reverse of yours, 
and if he 's in narrow circumstances, perhaps he 'd 
give you a few lessons, which would do you, Ben- 
jamin, a zuorld of good. 

Mr. Backbay. 

I doubt if he and I improve each other much 
when we meet, ma'am. 

Mrs. Post. 

Well, Benjamin, you have n't met him yet ; and 
for a matter-of-fact man, going on to threescore, 
I begin to regard him as a highly poetical crea- 
tion. I sha' n't alter my will till I have seen him 
through my own glasses, and meantime I advise 
yoiL, Benjamin, to drop the green spectacles of a 
jealous husband, and leave things to me and Julia. 

Mr. Backbay. 

Good bye, ma'am. You may laugh, but you '11 
find me terribly in earnest ! \Exit. 



DOCTOR MONDSCHEIN. I 29 



SCENE III. 

Mrs. Backhafs Drawing-room. — Enter Dr. Mond- 

sche'ui. 

Dr. Mondschein {alone). 
Schon. So ist gut. Ja. Fine haus, dieser. Rich 
peoples. Eats und trinks zu viel immer. Then 
they cry, " Doctor, ach ! mine head ! ach ! mine 
heart ! ach ! my eye ! So ist gut. They speak 
ver' long, — so much I hear. I look more mourn- 
ful, shake my head so grave. *'Ver' bard," I say. 
" You poolsation more als von hundert. You 
tongue so green as grass. You systcme ganz 
gebroken down. Ja. Gut for nicht. So miissen 
sie now die small pill take in — so — und in fiinf- 
zehn minuten besser grow, und ganz wohl in von 
hour time. You pay me five dollar." Schon. 

Enter Mrs. Backbay. 

Madame {Bozvs), I am flattened by your com- 
mand 

Mrs. Backbay. 
Permit me, Doctor, to consult your extraordi- 
nary skill in treatment of nervous affections. 

Dr. Mondschein. 
Madame, you are flatter still ! 

Mrs. Backbay. 
I suffer from violent alternations of the wildest 
spirits and the deepest dejection ! 



130 DOCTOR MONDSCHEIN. 

Dr. Mondschein. 

Ja, — is ver' wild spirits in my country. Black 
Forest full — full ! 

Mrs. Backbay. 

I sigh, I know not why, and weep for hours 
alone ; then plunge into the gayest excitement 
for relief. In the morning, I have a ringing in 
my ears, and taste a queer taste, and cannot eat 
any breakfast. I fear my nerves are sadly shat- 
tered ! 

Dr. Mondschein. 

Ver bard. Permit me. [Feels pulse.) You pool- 
sation more als von hundert. You systeme ganz 
gebroken down. Gut for nicht. Ja. So. Ml ss 
now die small pill take in — so — 

Enter Mr. Backbay unperceived. 

Mr. Backbay [aside). 

The German here ! in my house ! holding my 
wife's hand ! I '11 listen, and confound them both ! 

Mrs. Backbay. 
O, my poor heart is fluttering so ! 

Dr. Mondschein. 

Dear madame, you must trust to me you poor 
heart. I shall make you so harpy, and I shall kill 
to-morrow dat bose Geist, dat evil spirit, who 
make you life now miserable. 



DOCTOR MONDSCHEIN. I3I 

Mr. Eackbay {cxside). 

Make 'way with me ! villain ! 

Mrs. Backbay. 
O, SO soon ! — by what means ? 

Dr. Mondschein. 

Look not so frightful, dear madam e. I shall a 
lethal poison-bottle use, ver' mighty potentate, dat 
give his quietus very sudden, — very sure, dear 
madame. 

Mrs. Backbay. 

I have entire faith in you, and place myself 
wholly in your hands. 

Dr. Mondschein. 

Madame, I am altogether flattened by you con- 
fidence. My devotion shall to you cheek revive 
the lily and the rose's bloom, — the fire to you 
beauteous eye, — the angel music to you voice, — 
and you shall become once more so harpy, and 
laughable as ever. 

Mr. Backbay {aside). 
When I 'm dead and gone ! 

Mrs. Backbay. 

I 'm all impatience ! Send me the precious bot- 
tle, with your directions, which I '11 obey exactly. 



132 DOCTOR MONDSCHEIN. 

Dr. Mondschein. 

Madame, I shall have the honour. {Bozos.) Ma- 
dame, I take my leave, till afternoon ; when, with 
you kind permit, I shall again wait upon you 
another time. 

Mrs. Backbay. 

I shall expect you eagerly. Good morning ; 
I '11 show you the way down. 

[Examt Mrs. Backhay a/id Dr. Mondschein. 

Mr. Backbay {(i/ouc). 

Was there ever such an awful concoction ! I 
can hear the newsboys screaming my " Horrid 
murder by an exiled Pole in high life ! E-lope- 
ment of the guilty pair, with their plunder, — 
three cents ! " Ugh, — it makes my blood run 
cold ! And Julia too, — so young, — and yet as 
fiendishly capable of diabolical atrocities as — Lu- 
cretia Boardman ! To-morrow, I 'm to be a dead 
man. Meantime, I '11 look alive, and try to turn 
the corner. I '11 eat nothing, — I '11 drink nothing, 
— and I '11 sit up all night armed ! If I 'm bound 
to step out, and go up, I '11 sell my life dearly, — 
but I '11 try to sell the German first, and Julia into 
the bargain ! [Exit. 



DOCTOR MONDSCHEIN. I 33 



SCENE IV. 

Mrs. Backbay alone., sewing Buttons on a Shirt. 

SONG, — THE MARRIED LADY'S LAMENT. 

Air, — " Wlien tlie Swallows homeward fly." 

When the chairs are ranged around, 
When the partners all are found, — 
When the band begins to play, 
And slow-coaches go away, — 

When the German waits for me, 
Where shall I, their leader, be } 
I must sit at home, alone, — 
Sewing, yes, sewing shirt-buttons on ! 

When all Beacon Street is dressed 
In its newest and its best, — 
Flowers, diamonds, and lace, 
Crinolines of heavenly grace, — 
I. the envied of them all. 
Shall be here, — not at the ball, — 
In an old alpaca gown, 
Sewing, yes, sewing shirt-buttons on ! 

Ah ! how different men become 
When you live with them at home ! 
No more having your own way. 
You must do just what they say, — 
Here 's the moral of my rhyme, — 
Girls, be warned, — be warned in time ! 
Don't marry, and sew buttons on, — 
Husbands, yes, husbands spoil all our fun ! 

A ring at the bell ! how it jars my poor nerves ! 
Ah. ! Mr. Backbay ! you little imagine the an- 



134 DOCTOR MONDSCHEIN. 

guish occasioned by your brutalities to your poor 

wife ! [Mr. Backbay's head rises cautwicsly behind the sofa. 

Enter Servant. 

Servant. 
The German gem'man, ma'am. 

Enter Dr. Mondschein. 

Dr. Mondschein. 
Madame, I have the most high honour to wait 
upon you, with the potentate in the leetle bottle 
for the Evil Spirit. 

Mrs. Backbay. 
I shall lose no time in trying its powers, and, if 
your word be made good, I shall forever bless you 
as my preserver — 

Mr. '^k.QYiV.KY {rushing out with a pistol). 

Give me the bottle ! Silence ! or I shoot ! 

Mrs. Backbay. 
Benjamin, are you mad .'* 

Mr. Backbay. 
Yes, I mean to plead insanity! {Pours contents of 

bottle into tivo tumblers with water.) 

{To Dr. Mondschein.) Here, your Royal High- 
ness, oblige me by tossing that off! 

Dr. Mondschein. 
Ich verstehe nicht, donnerwetter ! 



DOCTOR MONDSCHEIN. I 35 

Mr. Backbay. 
Down with it, man ! My health and long life, 

or I shoot! {YioC^O'S. drinks luith -wry face.) NoW be off, 

and die in the Public Garden ! You shall have 
a statue. {Pushes him out) Woman! take the rest I 

Drink it ! 

Mrs. Backbay. 

My Benjamin is mad I [Shrieks.) 

Mr. Backbay. 
No words ! Drink it, I say, or I '11 shoot ! 

\She drinks. 

There ! now I 'm comparatively easy. I feel 
like taking a cold bite, and something to drink, — 
minus, of course, the poison. 

Mrs. Backbay. 

Benjamin, if you are Benjamin, explain this 
extraordinary conduct ! 

Mr. Backbay. 

I 'm as Benjamin as possible, thank you, and 
the thing 's as clear as mud. I can convict you 
out of your own mouth. You confessed your love 
for the German this morning ; I objected, you 
insisted ; I opposed, you resisted ; I remonstrated, 
you persisted. I flew to your aunt, shouted the 
whole story, and {Very loud) she 's on her way from 
Newton Corner in a carryall ! She may arrive in 
time, — or she may not. I came back, — found 
the German closeted with you, — overheard the 

2 



136 DOCTOR MONDSCHEIN. 

plot to poison me and marry each other, — took 
the hint, and here I am ! The Baron must begin 
to feel pretty badly by this time. He '11 soon keel 
up, like Maffeo Morey in the opera ! 

Mrs. Backbay. 

Mr. Backbay, this whole thing is a delusion, — an 
absurd series of errors ! " The German " is not a 
German, and the otJier German is not a Baron. I 
hope I make it perfectly clear t If not, I will. 
The German I love is a harmless dance ; the other 
German is an equally harmless Homoeopath, — 
and the bottle contained a harmless remedy ! 

Mr. Backbay {confounded). 

Whew ! I see. I 'm sold. I was wrong. And 
I frankly forgive you all. 1 '11 rush into the Public 
Garden after the German, as is a German, and 
beg him not to swell up, and die on my account. 
Have supper ready for three. {Exit. 

Mrs. Backbay. 

I don't know whether to laugh or cry at this 
termination ! I feared my dancing days were 
over, and that Benjamin would be measured for 
a strait-jacket. {Rings.) If he can mollify Dr. 
Mondschein, all will be well. {To servant.) Bring in 
the tray with wine and refreshments. — I hear 
them ! What can I say } I certainly never ex- 
pected to see my husband leading a German ! 



DOCTOR MONDSCIIEIN. I 37 

Enter Mr. Backbay and the Doctor arm in arm, takhig snuff. 
Mr. Backbay [sneezing). 

{Aside to Mrs. Backbay.) The dodge is intermittent 
insanity. [Aloud.) My dear, I 've confided to the 
Doctor the secret of my unhappy infirmity, and he 
pardons its extravagance. His eagle eye at once 
detected it. (Doctor taps forehead.) Saw that mind 
had succumbed to opulence, and might fly off the 
handle any minute ! He undertakes my case, 
and will visit me daily, and d — n the expense. 

Dr. Mondschein [bowing). 
Systeme quite gebroken down. Gut for nicht. 

Mr. Backbay. 

Well, it docs want winding up, and we '11 all fall 
to, and recruit. Sit by your fair patient. Doctor, 
and, this time, I won't meddle with your prescrip- 
tions. [They sit and eat and drink.) Doctor, you sing .-^ 

All Dutchmen eat and drink and sing. 

Dr. Mondschein. 

Ja wohl. If madame permit, I shall sing of my 
grandfader, and der Evil Spirit. 

SONG, — MARGRAVE VON BUTTERBROD. 
Air, — " Huntsman's Chorus." — Der Freischutz. 

My grandfather he was Ober-Kellner 
To the Margrave von Butterbrod, residing in Bavaria, 

And once, when they went to hunt the wild boar. 
The Margrave lost his way in the woods ! 



138 DOCTOR MONDSCHEIN. 

And the rain it did pour, 
And the lluinder did roar, 
Such hghtning, he swore, 
He had ne'er seen before, 
And by each flash he saw 
Some fifty thousand fiends or more ! 
Follow, hark ! the dogs bark ! 
FolloWjhark ! It grows dark! 
What a bore ! what a bore ! 
Says the Margrave, " Did you ever ? ' 
No I never, no, I never ! 

Never knew such a bore, — 
Horrid nasty bore, — 
Der Teufel take the whole concern ! 

Now Lucifer was present in a twinkling. 
And knocked down my grandf'ther, and carried oflf the Mar- 
grave, 
Bellowing like a locomotive engine, 
Never to be heard of more ! 

At the fiend's awful yell. 
And the; strong sulphur smell, 
My grandfather soon 
Awoke from his swoon 
When a red-hot harpoon 
Ran through his leather pantaloon ! 
Follow, hark I See that spark ! 
In the dark ! Follow, hark ! 
What a bore ! What a bore ! 
Says my grandf'ther, " Did you ever ?" 
No I never I No I never ! 

Never knew such a bore, — 
Horrid nasty bore, — 
I 'd better cut the whole concern ! 

So this job finished up the Margrave, 
But 't is said that his skeleton rampages round a-horseback, 



DOCTOR MONDSCHEIN. I 39 

Yelling on the traces of the wild-boar, — ■ 
Followed by his demon crew ! 

And his steed madly bounds, 
And away go his hounds, 
And his horn wildly sounds, 
As they all go their rounds, 
Till the whole wood resounds 
With the riot of the Spectre Hunt ! 
Follow, hark ! Stiff and stark ! 
Follow, hark ! What a lark ! 
What a bore ! What a bore ! 
Go it, Margrave ! Did you ever ? 
No, I never, no, I never ! 

Never knew such a bore, — 
Horrid nasty bore, — 
And crash went the whole concern ! 

{During the last verse, Mrs. Post enters, in bonnet and shawl^ 
and stands amazed, tcnseen.) 

Mr. Backbay. 

Bless my soul ! And do I understand you, sir, 
that all that really took place ? 

Dr. Mondschein. 
Every wort true ! 

Mrs. Backbay. 

And your interesting grandfather, — does he 
still live ? 

Dr. Mondschein. 

Madame, he went up ten year ago. He is a 
Ghost ! 

Mrs. Post. 

Well, I never ! 



140 DOCTOR MONDSCHEIN. 

Mr. Backbay {perceiving her). 

My dear aunt, the least said, the soonest 
mended. We all have our faults (except myself), 
and " all the clouds that lowered upon our house " 
have happily ended in Moonshine ! 

SONG. 

Air, - " Trab, trab." 

Mrs. Backbay (to the ladies). 

And if your nerves are shattered 

As mine are, L declare ! 
Don't hurry ofif to Europe 
To see physicians there, 
But try uiy doctor's skill ; 
He'll cure you, — yes he will, — 
Just send for Dr. Mondschein, (he lives at Chestnut Hill,) 
Yes, send for Dr. Mondschein, and take his little pill. 

Aunt Post. 

Young girls, who dance till morning, 

I, too, was young and gay ; 
But ah! by me take warning, — 
In one night I 've turned grey. 
Hair black as raven's quill, 
Now white as my cap-frill, — 
I '11 have this Dr. Mondschein, (he may restore me still,) 
I '11 send for Dr. Mondschein, and take his little pill. 

Dr. Mondschein [to the gentlemen). 

And if to pay you taxes 

You have to work ver' hard, 
Or if you speculations 

Should all turn out ver' bardj 



DOCTOR mondschp:in. 141 

If all dat make you ill, 

Trust not to lesser skill, — 
But send for Dr. Mondschein, {cier Allopath would kill,) 
Ja, send for Dr. Mondschein, and take my leetle pill ! 

TOGETHER. 

So, now our play is ended, 

We hope you 're satisfied, — 
The critics now before us 

That question must decide ! 
And if you 're ever ill. 
Just send to Chestnut Hill, — 
Yes, send for Dr. Mondschein, (don't mind his little bill,) 
Yes, send for Dr. Mondschein, — and take his Lit-tle Pill ! 



Cambridge : Stereotyped and Printed by Wech, Bigelow. fc Co. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



ill! 

015 863 509 4 # 









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mm 



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